A Child Of Celes
by Ontogenesis
Summary: Final chapter: When Fai is eleven, tragedy strikes his village. But then a mysterious king offers him a chance at a new life: will Fai accept?
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes: **

I'll try to keep this short – I based the "village" culture of Celes on that of rural Russian villages from the eighteenth century. Why? Well... CLAMP really hasn't given us much to go on regarding Celes, but there is a manga image of Fai's speech in _Tsubasa Reservoir _(Chapter 68.) It certainly looks like the Cyrillic alphabet to me. So after reading this particular manga chapter, the little gears in my head start spinning: Cyrillic alphabet + very cold location + fur clothing + a king (a tsar?) suggests CLAMP may have been inspired by Russian culture. I'm certain CLAMP will eventually reveal Fai's background in which case this will become an AU fic.

Unfortunately, I have very little knowledge of the Russian culture. I live in a warm place that is struck by hurricanes, not blizzards, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in snow. Thus, I had to do a lot of research in the hopes that this story would come off semi-decent and not completely laughable to people who live in colder climes (so please let me know if I've written something completely absurd in here.) I have links to my research if you're really interested, but you'll have to check out my livejournal posts of October 22nd (linked in my profile) because FFNet won't let me post links within a story.

**Disclaimer:** The original characters and the setting of Celes do not belong to me. _Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles_ is the copyrighted work of quartet of lovely ladies known as CLAMP. Please worship... er, support them by buying the manga.

**Warnings: **There may be occasional bad language in the story, as well as some violence, and possibly mild sexual references. Nothing that you wouldn't see in an American PG-13 movie.

**Beginning**

Forty-three. _Forty-three. _Faina D. Flowright scowled as she whipped the paste in the bowl with far more ferocity than the medicinal recipe required. It simply wasn't respectable for a woman her age, especially not one who already had five sons and three grandchildren. And the women would gossip, not that she _cared_ what they chose to discuss in the slightest, but she was certain it would involve words like "greedy" and "flirtatious" and "lusty" and "silly" and -

The heavy sound of boots interrupted Faina's list of imagined insults, and she looked up, slitting her eyes towards in the direction of the south door and the perpetrator of her predicament. There was a rasping noise of a dull blade against ice shards and worn yak hide boots, and then a few words as the guilty party murmured his thanks to each of the three sun emblems carved on the gable: sunrise first, midday next, and sunset last before stomping inside (and letting the door bang shut as usual, Faina noted sourly.)

Faiik D. Flowright's huge frame filled the doorway of the hearth room a few seconds later, and he piously headed to the men's corner where the family icons hung. He bowed and reverently thanked the ancestors for their protection in the mines, then snarled a few words at the icon of Ashura-ou-With-A-Nimbus.

Faina quirked an eyebrow. Dealing with the residential spirits, ancestors, and the newer custom of king worship were traditionally patriarchal responsibilities, so Faina wasn't familiar with all of the established protocol, but she was rather certain that Faiik wasn't supposed to say "and thank you for our safety too, you moon-worshipping freak." She did not bother to correct him, however.

"Good evening, my radiant sunshine," Faiik boomed, walking over to her corner to warm himself by the stove. He leaned over the table to peck Faina on the cheek but froze as he glimpsed the look on her face. "Ah, good evening, my freezing moonbeam?"

With a snort, Faina turned her ample back to Faiik, pointedly pretending that she was too preoccupied with stirring the paste to be bothered with something so trivial as a husband.

"Ah, Honored Master Domovoi, see how my own wife treats me?" Faiik sighed dramatically as he squinted at the space under the stove. He knew he wouldn't see anything, though - no one in his family had the ability to see their household spirit or anyone else's for that matter, but Magmeteva had assured him that was where their spirit preferred to lurk. "Please tell me what sins I have committed against my beautiful wife," Faiik implored, hanging his head in exaggerated penance.

"Honored Master Domovoi would like me to inform you that _this_ is your crime," Faina said, pointing at her belly. "You should be ashamed of yourself, a man of your years."

Faiik's blue eyes widened and he swayed backwards, nearly losing his balance. "You don't mean – a child!"

"Yes, a child. I'm three weeks pregnant," said Faina as she placed the bowl on the table and resumed glaring at her husband.

It wasn't necessary for Faiik to ask how Faina would know such a thing so early: she was one of the very few people in any of the surrounding villages with magic, and the only one in Faiik's extended household. Her magic was relatively small (according to Magmeteva, anyway), but Faiik felt incredibly lucky to have a wife with such talents. He dipped a finger in the bowl of paste and rubbed the mixture onto his numb hands, sighing with pleasure as the sensation of warmth sank down into his skin: Faina's small magics enhanced the properties of anything she prepared with her hands.

"Dear," Faiik said, flexing his now-warm fingers, "That's wonderful news. I couldn't be happier."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. A child is always welcome news," Faiik replied as he crept up behind his wife and encircled her with his massive arms. Gently, he placed one callused hand on her belly. "I'm truly blessed to have a wife who is carrying our sixth son."

"Silly Faiik," Faina said, placing a hand on his bearded jaw. "What makes you think this is a boy?"

Faiik pursed his lips as if in deep thought. "I possess magical powers of deduction. We have five sons. The three we buried were also sons. Therefore, this child is a son."

Grinning, Faina swatted his jaw gently and neatly stepped out from his embrace. "I've already decided on a name. Our _child _will be named Fai."

"Fai? Fai is a sissy name for a _son. _He'll be teased mercilessly by the other boys."

"Fai is a good name for a daughter _or_ a son. It's a pretty name."

"That's the problem. A son needs a good, strong name like Forvin or Fdot. Not a _pretty_ name like you would give to a _fairy_."

"We already have a son named Fdot, and maybe I'll just tell people that "Fai"_ is_ short for 'fairy.' As in, a fairy fathered my child because who could believe such an old man could be a father." Perversely, Faina stuck her tongue out as she gathered up a cord of wood for the stove.

"Ah, so that's what you've been up to while I've been hard at work in the mines, Honored Master Domovoi, you old lecher!" Faiik shook a fist in mock anger in the stove's direction.

Faina chuckled, her mood vastly improved. "Seriously, Faiik, aren't we a little old to be raising a new child?"

"Ah, if we croak too soon, we'll just foist him off on Falco. He's had practice now with two of his own already."

"Heyyy!" came a muffled cry of protest from the west wall, which adjoined Falco's own hearth room.

"Serves you right, you eavesdropper!" Faiik called out cheerfully. "Well, that takes care of the problem of passing the news along to the herd," he told his wife. "It'll be through the whole compound in five minutes." Three of his sons had started families of their own, but they had chosen to add their houses onto their parents' rather than building on separate plots, for convenience. Because all the houses shared the same roof, it wasn't necessary for one to risk a venture outside in order to visit family during the bitterest portions of winter. The barnyard, equipment shed, and storage rooms were also under the same roof, and the entire compound was encircled by a fence of fat, snugly slatted logs Faiik had hewed himself twenty years ago.

Leisurely, Faiik stretched his sore limbs, feeling quite content with this arrangement: all his people and animals were gathered close to him, under protection of both himself and the family domovoi. His new son would be welcomed into the warm household he and Faina had painstakingly crafted, safe from the biting winds outside.

It was a good life.


	2. Of Children And Politics

**II.** **Of Children And Politics**

The tree was definitely wiggling, no doubt about it. Faiik squinted into the afternoon sun, shielding his eyes with his hand. A small white furred thing was bouncing around the thick limbs of one of the Pul'kheriia trees like a possessed rodent.

Shaking his head in amusement, Faiik resumed herding the last of the yak team into the paddock. It had been a hard day of work at the mines, but he and his sons had managed to extract several three meter tall crystals from the ice caverns with the assistance of the yak team. The crystals were nearly flawless, which meant that they should fetch a good price in the capitol. Faiik closed the gate behind the last yak and trudged uphill towards the stand of Pul'kheriia trees that surrounded the compound. Like most of the villagers, he had chosen to use lumber from the trees for his construction because the silvery bark was uniquely suited to seal out cold. Pul'kheriia roots dug deep into the hard earth, absorbing the magic that reportedly lay buried deep below Oznobishin. The magic was rumored to be the reason that the trees could reach impressive heights, whereas most of the vegetation in Northern Celes crept close to the ground, hunched and stunted by freezing winds. There was still a large stand of the trees around Faiik's compound, however, because he had replanted a Pul'kheriia in the place of each one that he had cut on the instructions of Honorable Master Domovoi (Faiik couldn't hear or see the household spirit, but he could certainly read the strange patterns scrawled into the stove ashes.)

"Fai." Faiik wrapped his knuckles on the bark of the tree in which he had last spotted the "rodent."

No response, although Faiik heard a muffled giggle and the rustling of leaves.

"Fai, if you don't come to Papa, he's going to shake you out of the tree."

A small, grinning upside-down face slowly emerged from inside a clump of leaves. "You aren't strong enough to shake this tree, Papa," the boy taunted, his startlingly blue eyes half-moons of glee.

"Are you sure about that?" Faiik pretended to shake the tree and Fai pretended to fall, dropping into his father's outstretched arms and grabbing his father's neck to halt his controlled fall. With an exaggerated gasp, Faiik pretended to stumble and lose his balance from the near-negligible weight of the five-year-old, just as he did every time they went through the motions of this particular routine. "Ugh, you're getting too heavy for your old papa!"

Fai nuzzled his father's neck, the fur trimming on his new coat brushing against Faiik's wind-coarsened skin. "You aren't old, Papa. Just _ancient_."

"I'm sure I have your brothers to thank you for teaching you that word," Faiik said dryly as he fingered the coat skeptically. It was beautifully tailored, as were all of Faina's clothes, but the pattern (an intricate cross weave) and colors (blue and _white!_) didn't seem appropriate for a boy at all. "And I see your mother has been getting senile in her great, _ancient_ age, making you a coat with white fur. Little tree-climbing brats should wear dark, sensible colors."

Fai squirmed out of Faiik's arms with the ease of a snow-slick otter. "Oh, I don't like it; it's too girly," he replied evenly. "I'm just wearing it so Mama will be happy."

Faiik arched an eyebrow at Fai's bald-faced lie. He knew very well that Fai liked pretty things; the boy was always picking up bits of shiny glass, crystal shards, colorful ribbons, and the occasional stray kitten and stashing them in his bedroom in neat arrangements. Faiik, however, had long given up on spanking Fai for falsehoods; the threat of punishment never worked on Fai, a stubborn child who seemed to view pain as a mere temporary obstacle to be maneuvered around. But Faiik usually tolerated Fai's little lies since the boy had good intentions: Fai would rather risk a scolding for a fib than risk causing problems.

Faiik decided to drop the subject of the coat in favor of a subject dearer to his stomach. "I smelled fish while I was down at the paddock. What's on today's menu?" he asked, stretching and popping his neck as he began to walk back downhill towards the compound. Fai fell into step by his father, taking about four hurried paces for each of Faiik's leisurely strides.

"We're smoking the salmon for lunch tomorrow. Dinner is beef stroganov, fried potatoes with mint, and fruit cake. I found the mint growing near the tree roots," Fai added proudly. He enjoyed helping Faina with cooking and cleaning and other household duties, unlike the other boys who had to be dragged into the occasional household chores by the ear.

"And drink?"

"Hot chocolate!" Fai chirped, to which Faiik made an expression of dismay. "But"--Fai cupped his mouth conspiratorially and leaned close to his father-- "I've heard that it tastes really great with vodka."

"What! Which of your brothers told you that!" Faiik did his best to appear as incredulous as possible; he even put his hands on his hips. "You know you're not supposed to drink until you're thirteen, right?" Faiik punctuated each word with a shake of his finger. Personally, Faiik thought that it was fine to give children a little diluted alcohol with meals every now and then (_his_ father had shared his drinks with _him_); it meant they were less likely to go on a crazy binge upon reaching their thirteenth birthday. But Faiina definitely did **not** agree, and she had chased Frol for ten minutes after catching him trying to surreptitiously slip Fai mead at last year's Yuletide. (Of course Fai's brothers delighted in "corrupting" their mama's precious darling whenever possible, and said precious darling enjoyed being corrupted for his part.

When Faina heard about this little exchange – and Faiik knew it was inevitable that she would, it seemed to be some sort of irrevocable law of nature – Faiik hoped the finger-shaking and hands-on-the-hips would make into the version of the story she heard. Still... hot chocolate and vodka. He stroked his dirty blond beard thoughtfully. Sweetness with a bite. It _could_ plausibly work, and tonight would be cold so he needed something to warm up with.

"Ho, neighbor!" called a familiar, booming voice. A man clad in an ankle-length sealskin coat and matching cap stood at the bottom at the hill. He affectionately patted the massive husky standing next to his booted feet. "Bacha and I overheard you and the tyke discussing alcohol so naturally that got our attention."

Faiik greeted the man with a nod, while Fai shrieked with happiness at the sight of the dog. "No surprise, there, Captain. You and your dog can out drink anyone for any for ten ports around, or so they say, eh?"

Captain Saadak chuckled. "Nah, Bacha's too smart to drink beer, Flowright. Smarter than most my crew, probably me too."

"So what brings you to my humble abode?" Good-naturedly, Fai clapped a hand on the captain's back.

Hesitating, the dark-haired man cautiously glanced down at Fai, who was happily failing at wrapping his small arms around Bacha's furry neck. "Well, Ozerov's been acting like a bit of a hussy lately, but we've got a new priority order that just came in from Voloshin, so I want to take it."

A puzzled frown crossed Faiik's face. Lake Ozerov was infamous for her unpredictable boat-shattering winds and swells, but what did that have to do with Fai?

"Your son has a feel for the weather in his bones," Captain Saadak said. "I just figured it couldn't hurt to get his opinion before deciding to take the job. Never been wrong before."

"I expect that sort of superstition from the ignorant farmhands and old women with nothing better to do, but you went to a _real_ school, and you're the most traveled person here! You don't actually believe all the silly stories about Fai's birth date and his name, do you?" Faiik snapped. It was well-known that certain villagers would drop by the Flowright compound at random intervals, supposedly to swap news or offer a neighborly hand, but it was obvious that most were hoping to see Fai do something "magical" (preferably flashy.) It was also well-known that Faiik considered this to be a source of great annoyance and would rope any of the "idle gossipy bums" into "honest work" if he could. Fai, however, enjoyed and basked in the adult attention, which also annoyed Faiik.

A pink flush spread across the captain's bushy face, and Faiik guiltily looked away so as not to embarrass his friend further.

"I thought you would give my words some consideration, not because I'm 'educated' and 'well-traveled,' but because we've been friends and neighbors for a long time and we respect each other. You know that I'm a practical man and I base my decisions on what I observe, on results that work," Captain Saadak said, punctuating his words awkwardly with thick gloved hands. "My life, the lives of my crew, and sometimes even the lives of people in this village depend on my judgment. But I don't mean to upset you or interfere with the way you raise your family, Flowright."

Faiik sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. That really wasn't meant for you – I'm just worried about Fai's future, about what _they_ might do--" Abruptly Faiik cut himself off, remembering that the object of their conversation was still quite present. _Oh shit, stupid, Faiik, stupid. _Fai had burrowed himself into Bacha as if he were trying to disappear into the black fur. Once he and Faina had made the mistake of quarreling about Fai in front of him, and Fai hid himself in a Pul'kheriia and wasn't located for five hours. When questioned about it, Fai replied matter-of-factly that if they were quarreling about him and he left then they wouldn't fight anymore. Since then Faiik had exercised extreme caution not to say such things in front of his youngest, although he'd managed to break that little rule royally just now. He touched the boy's hair gently. "Fai, you're not in trouble. Captain Saadak and I are just... discussing adult things. We're not angry with each other or you."

Sniffling, Fai lifted his head up, his pale face damp.

"Why don't you go find your brothers and play with them?"

"I saw F'dot and Fedos'i pulling weeds in the garden," Captain Saadak offered helpfully. "You could take Bacha and sneak up on them."

"Okay," Fai said slowly as he rubbed a hand over his eyes, the expression on his face revealing that he _knew_ that he was being gotten rid of, but that he was grateful for an opportunity to escape all the same. With a weak smile, Faiik watched the pair run downhill. "Fai and those twins sure enjoy harassing each other."

"Faiik." The captain sought the miner's gaze, his onyx eyes now piercing. "You've been worrying constantly about the boy ever since that rock slide three months ago, haven't you?"

"Yes. I'm glad you're back, Captain. There isn't really anyone else I can discuss this with; I don't want to worry Faina with my idle speculation." Faiik paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "You've spent enough time outside of the village to understand how outsiders think. What I need to know is whether or not my son is in danger of being kidnapped by the capital."

" 'Kidnapped' is a strong word to use; outside of these parts most people use 'conscripted' or 'drafted.' " Captain Saadak smiled shrewdly. "But you're wondering if the boy has already attracted outside attention and how long you can hide him, aren't you?" Faiik offered a small shrug of his shoulders, confirming Captain Saadak's guess. "Lucky for you this village is extremely isolated, otherwise you wouldn't have a chance. Our king seems to be running dry on magic-talented conscripts," Captain Saadak muttered as he began to scratch a diagram of the village in the dirt. First he drew a small circle to represent the town of Oznobishin and a larger circle to represent Lake Ozerov. Next he added jagged teeth for the mountains that ringed the valley on three sides. "It's the trade routes that will cause problems," Captain Saadak said as he drew a few twisting lines from Oznobishin through the mountains, where three other sister villages lay.

Faiik nodded. "True, but I don't think we have to worry about those. They're even more isolated than we are since they don't have any lakes or rivers, and most of them hate to travel. They heard about the rock slide incident, but they're not much inclined to gossip with outsiders, especially since they hate the capital even more than we do." The mountains were impassible most of the year due to ice storms and rock slides. Even when the mountains were passable, travelers could weather the high altitudes only long enough to visit villages two days away at most. That meant travel tended to be restricted to intervillage travel, and thus there was a rather insular bond between the four village. "So the issue is the Lake Ozerov route, and that's your domain, Captain." Faiik knew that Captain Saadak had a rather inordinate amount of control over news that went into and out of the village: Lake Ozerov froze over completely about three months out of the year, and Captain Saadak was the only person willing or crazy enough to cross the enormous lake with a dogsled team, all the way to River Ozerov. And even when the lake wasn't frozen, the captain's ship was still the only vessel to regularly dock in Oznobishin. He loaded up furs and crystals and news and unloaded medicines and metalwork and news.

"Oh-ho, asking me to manipulate information, Flowright? Don't worry, my crew knows how to be quiet," Captain Saadak replied absent-mindedly. "The legendary loose lips of sailors are not the problem - this is." He waved the stick at a set of triangles he had drawn, and Faiik stared as if transfixed. "The crystals... it's been awhile since they've had maintenance, hasn't it?" The captain nodded. The village couldn't exist without the lake, but the lake was not a kind and benevolent force of nature. She seemed to resent their very existence, battering ships with unpredictable gale-force winds and waves at all times of the year, but during the coldest months Lake Ozerov often generated winds of such chill that the village wouldn't be able to last more than a few weeks if "The Fence" were to fail. The Fence consisted of a long row of rare perfect four-meter crystals that had been planted into the ground by the village's founders centuries ago. The Fence ran parallel alongside the section of the lake that fronted the village. The crystals were meshed together by an intricate web of the most powerful magic and amplified the power of the magic so that it generated a protective barrier against the wind.

But occasionally, even the best magic would go awry, and thus The Fence received periodic checkups. Or was supposed to, anyway. Since Ashura-ou's recent campaigns to consolidate and exercise his power, the remote Northern villages had dropped rather low on the priority list, which suited Faiik just fine. "They aren't going to send a team out here unless there was a real problem," Faiik said. "Ashura's not going to pull wizards and witches that talented off the battlefield just for a routine check up on some backwater village. And we're certainly not going to request a checkup unless something went terribly wrong – like a complete failure. That hasn't happened during our lifetime, so it's not very likely to happen now. So we don't have to worry about Fai being discovered by wizards from the capital. That only leaves Magmeteva... and I think she can be persuaded. She's one of us, after all."

A fond smile crinkled Captain Saadak's face at the thought of their circuit witch. "I think you're right, although knowing that lass, she'll give in only after a lot of kickin' and screamin.' But are you certain that maybe it wouldn't be good for Fai to see a bit of the world, to learn how to hone his talents? And you might find this hard to believe, but in most places it's considered quite a honor to have a child selected for magical training."

Faiik shook his head, his faded blue eyes looking very weary. "If I could be reassured that Fai wouldn't have to fight and that those moon-worshippers wouldn't teach him disgusting things, then maybe it would be okay when he's older. That boy is too gentle for that sort of thing. It's best that he stay here and learn proper natural magic from his mother." Captain Saadak said nothing, but Faiik saw the way that the other man bit his lip and knew that he was thinking that Fai's magic had never been particularly _natural._ The two men fell silent, each absorbed in his own thoughts.

Fai had been subjected to unusual attention ever since his birth since he'd been born on their most important holiday – Midsummer's Eve. Faiik knew that even very causally religious men like Captain Saadak considered such birth date to be significant. Faiik and Faina had managed to keep Fai's chats with their household domovei and his minor magic tricks on his brothers secret, but the villagers were watching Fai carefully and believed his affinity for the Pul'kheriia trees was solid proof that he had lots of magic in his blood: magic called to magic, or so the saying went.

Then there was the recent incident with the rock slide: almost the whole village had turned out for the opening of a newly discovered cave in the mountains. Faiik was balancing Fai on his left shoulder, explaining that the village was excited because it had been a long time since a cave with such high-quality crystals had been discovered, and that this meant a lot more work for his papa and brothers. However, the exploration crew had only drilled a short distance when some boulders bounced loose and tumbled towards the crew. Faiik remembered staring in mute horror as the boulders tumbled down in seeming slow-motion and he clutched Fai tightly, knowing that he and everyone else was utterly helpless to do anything but be unwilling witnesses to the deaths of neighbors and friends. But in the space of a split second, Faiik felt Fai tense and yell "No!" and then Faiik's entire body went numb as if lightning had just ripped through it. The boulders exploded into harmless dust obediently. Faiik looked up at Fai – his blond hair was sticking out in all directions like a mad cat's bristling fur, but he was smiling as if things had worked out marvelously. "I told them to stop and they did!" he chirped brightly as onlookers stared at him in awe. Apparently, no one had bothered to inform Fai that he was supposed to be helpless too.

Now it was impossible not to view that incident in a grim light. Fai exploded _boulders_ well enough; maybe the capital would like to put that talent to use blowing apart stubborn insurgents. Arrogant jerks. It was _his_ son, and Faiik knew that Fai would rather be petting kittens and tying his brothers' boots together. And Faiik was determined to do his best to insure that Fai could keep on doing that and keep on getting scolded by his mother.

* * *

It was late when Captain Saadak and Faiik finished their vodka-and-chocolate by the stove. Everyone else had long since retired to bed, so Faiik saw Captain Saadak to the gate and then quietly walked inside to peek into Fai's bedroom. The boy was clutching a stuffed toy so tightly that Faiik knew that he wasn't asleep. Faiik reached out and stroked his son's hair gently. "Fai, Papa doesn't want you to ever be ashamed of your gifts, okay? As long as you help people with your magic like Mama, you should be proud of yourself."

"Then why do you worry about it?"

"Because there are people who would want you to use bad magic," Faiik replied. "But you don't need to worry about that. Captain Saadak and I have got it figured out, and between the two of us we're pretty smart."

Faiik was rewarded with a small smile. "Not as smart as Bacha, though. She knows how to jump and sit on people and everything," Fai replied sleepily as he relaxed and snuggled into his pillow. "Papa, please tell Captain Saadak not to go to Voloshin tomorrow."

"I promise."

* * *

By midmorning the next day, a storm of incredible ferocity swept over Oznobishin. Faiik finished nailing boards across the shutters of the barn windows and he found himself staring at his callused hands, suddenly stung by the realization that they weren't as half as strong as he had prided himself. He wondered if they were strong enough to hold onto a little boy's tiny hands.

* * *

**Author Notes: **

Again, sorry no links... I researched these names and meanings from the online _Dictionary of Period Russian Names_.

Faina (f) "light"

Faiik (m) There wasn't any definition listed, but I liked the sound of it.

Fai (m) no meaning listed, but apparently there was a real landowner in 1586 named "Fai Mikhailov syn Iakhontov."

Pul'kleriia (f) "beautiful." I think these trees are beautiful, like the trees in Lotholorien (from LOTR). Heck, they're magic.

Ozerov "lake." Hehe, real original here.

Oznobishin "chill, cold." Bring your earmuffs, folks.

Saadak (m) no meaning listed. Not a captain in real life, but "Stanko Saadak," a peasant.

A few notes about Fai, since I'm approaching his character from a rather different angle: I've read a lot of great fanfiction about him (:huggles fanfic writers:) but I disagree with some that deal with his background because they assume that his childhood was traumatic and he was an orphan or abused by Ashura, etc. I just don't think that is consistent with his personality. I view his behavior as being very similar to children who were the youngest in large families. He loves getting attention, he is easily affectionate (both verbally and physically), likes to foist responsibility / blame off onto others, and is very good at making friends easily: all characteristics often seen in the youngest. Also, Fai seems to take his intelligence for granted; that is, he doesn't seem arrogant or seem to think he's particularly brilliant even though he is. This is not uncommon in youngest children: their siblings are already mature by the time this child is born, so the youngest is always playing catch-up and often starts speaking sooner and has an advanced vocabulary and advanced mannerisms compared to his actual peers. Fai can also be very dependent on other people, which is also often seen in youngest children (remember in Outo Country, in the bar when he told Kurogane that he was waiting for someone to take him away. On the other hand, Kurogane's behavior is very consistent with **his** birth order, but I won't give away any spoilers. )

Fai seems like a character who had a good life but who suffered trauma later, which causes him to be guarded about his real thoughts and feelings. If you think these first chapters were too happy for your liking, don't worry. :evil grin: We'll make Fai suffer later, because that's the way CLAMP likes it.


	3. Enter The Hedge Witch, Part I

**Enter The Hedge Witch (Part I)**

**Notes: **

Warnings & Disclaimer: see Chapter 1. Nothing's changed. I still don't own Tsubasa or Fai.

Major "Original Character" alert. The new OC has more screen time than our dear Fai, but such was unavoidable since I'm trying to "flesh out" Celes and the only canon Celes characters are Fai, Chi, and Ashura-ou (so far.) No need to worry about a Mary Sue, though... please read carefully because it does all pertain to Fai.

I split this chapter into two parts. It got too big and I don't like to scroll too much. Hopefully the length makes up for my delay in updates, yes? ;; More notes at the end of Part II. Thank you very much for reading!

* * *

The toboggan flew across Lake Ozerov as the huskies raced across the moonlit ice. The familiar, rhythmic sounds of their paws striking the ice and the warmth of the dog at Magmeteva's knees began to lull her into sleep, and she shook her head sharply to jar her senses. Sitting in a toboggan reminded her of childhood comfort and security, yet the lake was anything but; they couldn't afford for her to be dozing off. The witch slipped a mittened hand from under a pile of furs and patted the injured dog reassuringly, and the dog whined slightly, his soft eyes still fixed longingly on his comrades on the ice. _Silly dog, _Magmeteva thought affectionately.Huskies were bred to love racing and pulling, and they would keep running until they dropped dead if they had their choice in the matter. Saadak had opted to basket the dog after a rock sliver had pierced one of the dog's paws. The dog had kept running as if it weren't injured, but Saadak's keen eyes had spotted the flecks of blood on the ice.

Still, he couldn't see _everything_; that was _her _job. The witch unfocused her eyes as she concentrated on the magical atmosphere that perpetually hung over the lake. Its appearance was rather akin to a gauzy shroud composed of thousands of veins of magic. Usually the magic behaved itself and merely pulsated sluggishly in the freezing air, but occasionally a vein would tangle up on itself and the magic piled up on itself until the strain was great enough that it snapped. That was when the fun started, Magmeteva thought dryly. Ozerov was already a naturally dangerous lake, but when the occasional magic charge broke free, it could crack the ice or stir up waves or incite gale-force winds. If waves and winds were already present, it would amplify their effects.

Yet this magic was still a rather low-grade type and thus visible only to magic-talented people. Magmeteva considered scolding Saadak again for being reckless enough to cross the lake without a witch or wizard accompanying him, but she knew he would simply seize the opportunity to invite her to join his crew again. Or ask her to marry him again. She clucked her tongue reproachfully to herself. _Stubborn men, all the men of my town are so stubborn and proud_. _They're lucky any of them manage to get married!_

Suddenly Magmeteva's skin prickled and the hairs on her neck stood up. "Stop!" she said, reaching behind behind her shoulder to rap Saadak on the knuckles.

Immediately, Saadak yelled out "Whoa!" and the team halted to an abrupt stop. "What do you see?" he asked.

Magmeteva frowned as she squinted into the night air, her eyes still unfocused. "Nothing yet, but the surge I just felt was major. There's bound to be more accompanying it."

"We should halt for now, then. Even if the surges aren't close it could spook the team."

As if in response, Bacha let loose a blood curdling growl that sent a shiver down Magmeteva's spine. She stood completely still, her ears flattened against her head and fangs bared against an unseen enemy. The other dogs, sensing their leader's fear and anger, began to whine and twitch in their harnesses. "It's okay," cooed Saadak as he hurried to stroke them and calm them down. He removed the protective wrappings from their paws and rubbed ointment onto the huskies' paws.

The witch unfolded her legs and dug herself out of the mountain of furs, shuddering as she tried to acclimate to the drop in temperature. She rooted around the supplies that had been snugly lashed to the toboggan. Most of the supplies were for the village: medicines, tools, metal, and rubber. Magmeteva removed the frozen dog food, a small portable stove, pots, and oil. However, several attempts to start the stove failed because the wind had picked up and kept blowing the light out. Magmeteva rolled her eyes in irritation and tried to shield the stove by placing it between her body and the toboggan, but that was also unsuccessful. Finally she removed her sealskin shoulder bag from the toboggan and pulled two small bottles and a bag of powdered plants out. With precise movements, the witch mixed the items and then walked a circle around the toboggan, whispering quietly as she spilled the mixture out. As soon as she had completed the circle, the wind inside the enclosed area ceased. Magmeteva smiled triumphantly as she successfully lit the stove; being a witch _did _have its little perks, especially if you liked to have your way. Which she definitely did. She scooped handfuls of snow into the pots. When the snow had melted, she added the frozen livers and fish to it. The resulting mixture was a fat-rich stew that provided the huskies with both the moisture and calories they needed after running for dozens of miles nonstop.

"Nice trick," Saadak said admiringly as he walked into the circle, carefully stepping over the line. He exhaled slowly, watching his breath crystallize in the moon-drenched air. "Could you do a heat spell?"

Magmeteva arched an eyebrow primly. "Those require a lot of magic – the spells would probably tap into the magic around here. It might draw the surges towards us. I'm supposing that you don't want to be electrocuted while you nap, correct?"

"Ah, nevermind. Can the dogs sleep inside the perimeter of the circle?"

"If you can get them to walk inside without stepping on the circle." Magmeteva poured the stew into bowls, remembering to set one inside the toboggan for the injured dog. She spread out straw beds for the dogs and then began to prepare human food. Saadak led the unharnessed dogs into the circle carefully, instructing each to jump over the line in a different dialect or language. Magmeteva watched him quietly, impressed. She knew that he spent as much time as possible raising and training the dogs, but he was the only handler that she knew who had taught his dogs to respond to different languages (other than sled commands, which were all given in their native tongue.) Saadak told her that he had done this so he could have the team hunt like a wolf-pack would – if each dog had learned the same command for "circle right," then when he gave the command, _all_ the dogs would execute the command at the exact same time. By using commands specific to one dog, however, Saadak could control each individually and have the dogs perform different functions.

Bacha gingerly stepped into the circle last and ignored her food. She let out periodic growls as if she expected an assault at any moment. "Bacha, calm down. It's just a little wild magic," the captain said firmly as he knelt beside the lead dog, staring her in the eyes. The two stared at each other until Bacha whined and licked her master on the face. Saadak patted her head. "She's a good girl, yes she is. A little headstrong, though."

"I wonder where she picked up _that_ trait," Magmeteva said, thrusting a cup of scalding hot tea into Saadak's hands.

Saadak widened his eyes. "Ah, you're still mad that I wouldn't tell you everything back in Volshin."

"Surely you can appreciate why I'm not particularly thrilled, Mr. Saadak. I don't appreciate having to cross _three hundred _miles of ice during the _coldest_ month of the year when it's _pitch black_ all the time and you won't even tell me exactly _why_."

"We still get four hours of sunshine," Saadak mumbled weakly into his cup. "It wasn't my decision to hide the particulars from you. The priest said it would be a bad idea to risk letting any outsiders know about our predicament; you know how nosy the Volshins are, they probably invented eavesdropping and they'd let everyone else know and then we'd have people trying to take advanta--"

"--_What_ predicament?" Magmeteva interrupted.

"The crystals are out. No Fence."

"Out? As in, their output has weakened?"

"No, out as in _dead_. You know my house's closest to them. I woke up in the middle of the night a few sunrises ago because the dogs were howling and carrying on. It was freezing to death and then I realized that I didn't hear the humming anymore. The crystals were just standing there, no magic web or anything. We waited a sunrise to see if maybe they'd restart themselves. But they didn't so the priest and elders decided I should come fetch you. I rushed straight into the Volshin and found you as quickly as I could and here we are." Saadak tipped his cup back and swallowed the rest of the tea in one gulp, wincing at the heat.

Magmeteva felt her stomach squirm as she began to run calculations in her head. At top speed Volshin was roughly three sunrises away from Ozerov. They had waited a full sunrise to fetch her, so that was four sunrises before Saadak had arrived in Volshin. She and Saadak had traveled for the better part of a sunrise, so they still had two more left... by the time she arrived in the village, the crystals would have been out for seven sunrises. _A week._ The magic could have strayed very far from the crystals by that time, and it wasn't improbable that the magic had simply chosen to rejoin with a larger source - like the damn lake, for example. Magic called to magic, and weaker magic was drawn to stronger. It was one matter for her to attempt to coax wandering magic back onto its proper path, but she could never separate the spells from raw magic.

"Ah, Magmeteva, you're twisting," Saadak said, his tone strained yet amused. "That bad, huh?"

The witch looked down to find her right index finger tangled up in her scarf's bright tassels. She felt her cheeks heat up: she never had managed to break that childish habit. "_Ms._ Magmeteva, or Hedge Witch, please. And yes, it's that bad," she replied curtly. "You came directly to find me in Volshin, correct? You didn't stop to talk to anyone else or deliver any messages?" Saadak nodded. "Then why did you not consider sending a sealed dispatch to the capital requesting an emergency relief team?"

"But Mag—_Ms._ Magmeteva—isn't it better for you to examine the problem before we go off bothering the capital about something that might not be a big deal? You're our region's expert. They might want a report from you before they go to a lot of trouble and expense for some stupid villagers."

Magmeteva narrowed her eyes. Saadak was playing dumb at her expense: the man might certainly act bashful and dumb around _her_, but she had known him for long enough to know that he was shrewd. He couldn't possibly expect her to believe that he thought proper protocol had to be followed in an emergency, not that he'd ever been particularly enamored with paperwork in the first place. The captain was risking his life and his dogs to come fetch her; why not make all efforts to make certain the village would be taken care of? Magmeteva decided to fish. "You know full well that this is probably the most serious problem our village could possibly face," she said, jabbing the air with her tassel-wrapped finger as she leaned forward. "I think... you're protecting someone. You're hiding something."

"What are you talking about? What would we have to hide?" Saadak kept his voice nonchalant and calm, so Magmeteva knew he was lying. She had _loathed_ her initiation period in the capital, but she had managed to learn a few useful tricks simply from trying to navigate the system. Lies, for example, always sounded somewhat practiced because the liar feared that he would be questioned eventually and thus prepared an explanation. An honest person, in contrast, made no preparations and was usually shocked by the question and often offended. Saadak was neither.

"Hmm... maybe you don't want any interference from the capital because you're worried that we'll get in trouble after they realize how little progress has been made in establishing the state religion."

Surprise flashed across the captain's face, then he looked oddly relieved. "You haven't visited the village in almost four years. How could you know that?"

"I am a witch, after all. Or I just know you all too well," she replied dryly. "I bet the priest hasn't even attempted to pay any lip service. I bet he removed the icons of Ashura-ou that I hung up in the temple last visit." Magmeteva wondered about Saadak's relief. The priest had probably browbeaten him into not making any requests while in Volshin, and Saadak was relieved that now she knew he wasn't completely to blame.

Saadak exhaled slowly. "Well... he's just an old man, set in his ways. Things are changing too fast for him. He doesn't mean any harm."

"He might not mean harm, but that doesn't mean he can't cause any." Magmeteva tried to feel indignant with Saadak but failed. There was something cute about him protecting the priest when he didn't even bother showing up to services other than Midsummer Eve's and Yuletide. "They might let us slide with keeping the temple if we could at least fake that we were somewhat interested in the state religion. And it's his responsibility as a village leader to discourage the graffiti. And it's _my_ responsibility to report on whatever I see. I really don't appreciate having to be creatively negligent with my reports whenever I visit."

"I know... it's not fair to you, being put in that position. Some of us have tried to talk some sense into him, but he's got enough die-hard types egging him on that he doesn't listen."

Magmeteva scowled. After she had thoroughly examined the crystals, she would call the village to the temple to discuss her findings. Clearly, she would have use the opportunity to mete out a few well-earned verbal flayings, she thought as she sipped daintily at her tea. It had been awhile since she'd gotten to indulge in such an exercise.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Saadak spoke again. "How's your book? Gotten any good recipes lately?"

Magmeteva swallowed her salmon jerky and dabbed at her mouth before replying. They might be miles from civilization and surrounded by dogs, but that was no excuse to let table manners lapse. "Yes, actually. Remember that elderly lady's house you found me at in Volshin? She is a veritable treasure trove of information. She's probably forgotten more herbal remedies than those healers at the court ever learned. After we get the problem fixed, I'm heading back to her house as soon as possible. I think with a few more months' research, I'll have enough information to start compiling the book. I'm really hoping that this book will encourage people to look to traditional methods instead of simply throwing them away. New is not necessarily better."

"It's bad enough that most city folk look down on 'natural' magic, and now we've got some of our own people who think they're too good for it now," Saadak agreed. "Although Faina's pretty good at keeping people straight about it. You don't think you'll have any problems getting published, do you?"

"I don't see why I would. I'm not giving people recipes for poison or encouraging insurrection in code or anything crazy like that. I'm just encouraging people to look to their heritage. Hedge Witches are expected to publish anyway, although usually the material's a bit more fawning towards Ashura-ou and the war. But such a discussion has no place in my book."

Saadak furrowed his dark brows. "About the war: I've been hearing all sorts of rumors up and down the river about some of Ashura's... new wizards."

Magmeteva stared at him for a long moment, brown eyes sharp. It was obvious that Saadak had been waiting for an opening to broach the subject. "What exactly are you asking? You do realize that I'm rather limited in what I can divulge, so I hope you're not asking something that would put me in a spot."

A hiss of annoyance escaped from Saadak. "Magmeteva, I have no idea what sorts of weird rules and oaths they make you swear to. I know you've got to do your job, and I'm not going to hassle you like some folks do when they're pissed at the government. I'm your friend: If what I ask is off-limits, just tell me so. I won't get mad. Promise." Magmeteva nodded once, and Saadak continued: "Is it true that the capital's encouraging the combat wizards to use torture on common people to break the spirit of the resistance?"

"That is not the sort of question you should be asking, Mr. Saadak. Please tell me that you don't go around asking questions like that at your ports of call."

Saadak shook his head.

"Now I'll answer as best as I can: I don't spend much time at the capital, and most of the places on my route are somewhat rural. Most of the information is on a need-to-know basis, and someone in my position apparently doesn't need to know very much." Magmeteva laughed suddenly, a self-deprecating, derisive sound better suited for mockery than pleasure. She knew that her laughter had been sounding like that a lot lately so she'd been avoiding laughing. "I get these sorts of questions all the time. People expect me to know the answers, and why shouldn't they? I'm the only 'government official' they usually see. But I probably know less than you do. I do know that the capital's been having trouble recruiting new magic apprentices, though. Not that they said so in as many words, but they've been putting the pressure on us to identify new conscripts." She gave her scarf a fierce yank. "As if I could _create_ new recruits just because they need more! There simply aren't many magic talented people on my route: it's just not in the gene pool here. Not that most here would want to leave anyway; it's really not an easy sell."

"Is it possible that maybe the shortage has resulted in the less desirable sort being sent out to fight?" Saadak asked, his tone wary.

"I know that a number of wizards have been killed. The resistance has coaxed a few very powerful wizards and witches to switch sides and it's not easy to recover from that loss – which is only exacerbated when said wizards and witches end up killing their former colleagues," the witch replied grumpily. She thought for a moment. "I haven't been back to the capital lately, but I suppose it's possible that some of the more... _unrestrained_ types have been removed from 'desk jobs' and put into positions to make decisions that they really haven't the judgment or maturity to handle. What exactly have you seen, Mr. Saadak?" she asked softly.

The captain looked down at his hands, avoiding her gaze. "Ever since the war started, I've seen a lot of stuff." He shrugged, his voice curiously flat. "I've seen stuff before, of course. Life on the river's harsh. But that's just nature's way; you expect it. Since the war started, most of the people I've seen injured or dead are younger men, most single. From the look of them, and the way they spoke, most of them were probably involved in rebel activities in some way or other. I didn't waste a lot of tears on them: they knew what they were getting into. But starting a few months ago... well, I've saw this old man. Farmer in the Tabor area, I've known him for awhile. Except he's not going to be doing anymore farming. His legs were blown clean off; there was no way it was an accident." Magmeteva noticed that Saadak's hands trembled a little. "He's got a wife to look after too, no children left."

Magmeteva felt sick. "Maybe he was involved in something he shouldn't have." She wanted desperately to believe that.

"No!" Saadak jerked his head up to glare at her. "There's no absolutely no way. I couldn't get him to talk about it, though. Poor man seemed about ready to have a heart attack if anyone even asked him about his legs. But that's not the worst: there's this little girl, she can't be more than nine or ten. She just stares at the wall and babbles in some nonsense language all day. They say some witch of Ashura's got her. You don't suppose _she_ was involved in some rebel activity, do you?"

"Saadak, please, don't bait me." Magmeteva pinched the bridge of her nose. She was definitely developing a killer headache. She had a sinking feeling that she did know the witch who was capable of a such a deed, but she could not bring herself to admit it to Saadak. Guilt by association could be a real bitch. Especially in times of war. "I have heard very few stories like these in the towns on my route, and it does concern me. People shouldn't be afraid to talk to me: I'm their representative. But I guess they can't help being afraid."

"Yeah," Saadak said flatly, turning his attention pointedly back to his food. Magmeteva wondered if he was disappointed in her. Some people seemed to think she had more influence than she really did because she was the only government figure whom they usually ever saw. Thus they tended to view her as a sort of physical embodiment of it - with all its flaws and follies. But Saadak should know better, she thought sourly.

Sometimes Magmeteva really hated her job.

* * *

The magic wasn't behaving normally at all.

Not that magic tended to be nice and predictable by nature (that would be entirely _too_ convenient and probably against whatever rules magic_ did_ honor), but magic still usually followed patterns. Magmeteva circled the crystals yet again, hoping to spot a clue that had eluded her earlier. The magic web had indeed unraveled itself as she had feared, but she hadn't been able to puzzle out where exactly it had gallivanted off to. Snow crunched under her feet as she walked down the gentle slope that led to the lake's shoreline. The magic _should_ have either gone to the lake to join that morass of wild magic, or it should have lingered around the magic of the matched crystals. But it clearly had not: Magmeteva would be able to detect it if it were still with the crystals, and if it had joined with the lake magic, the lake would have reacted to the _reveal _spell she had cast earlier.

That only left one option: the village. There wasn't any reason for the magic to be attracted to the village, which had never possessed more than trace amounts of natural magic - especially not when there were two very powerful magical "magnets" nearby. At least the village had managed to erect a partial windblock. A row of large boulders stood alertly behind The Fence, the gaps between the boulders filled with a mixture of mud, rocks, and precious Pul'kheriia bark. Magmeteva touched the mixture and allowed herself a small smile of pleasure upon recognizing the magical fingerprint. Magmeteva had always appreciated the fine handiwork of Faina, although she felt some surprise that Faina had been able to create an adequate amount of mixture in only a week. Faina had always found it necessary to limit her magical dabbling in order to avoid exhaustion, especially since she also had to devote most of her energy to running a large family. But there was no one else in the village who could assist Faina in such a task, and Faina was a mature woman and definitely past the age to experience a magic growth "spurt." _Perhaps__Faina's learned a new shortcut. In that case, I'll definitely have to put it in my book. _Magmeteva very much anticipated grilling the older woman.

With a yawn,Magmeteva stretched her sled-sore limbs and began to walk briskly down the weathered plank path that led to the village. The sun was already beginning to slip below the horizon, and the freezing night air would certainly be unbearable without the protection of The Fence. On the bright side, someone would almost certainly offer her a nice warm shot of vodka if she were spotted walking around town when it was _so _miserably cold - and Oznobishin vodka was the best in Celes. Magmeteva practiced pushing her lower lip out and hunching her shoulders together so that she looked very pitiful indeed.

As Magmeteva trudged up the final hill, the distinct peaked wooden roofs of the village rose into view and she instinctively relaxed, feeling the acculmated stress of the past months seep away. The architecture was plain but sturdy, and the ornamentation limited to painting on the eaves and windowsills, with the occasional sun and animal carvings. The hedge witch knew that her colleagues in the capital would sneer at the pastoral sight: here were no stunning domes sheeted with goldleaf, no spiraling staircases that arched skyward, and no dazzling castle with wings of ice. That was perfectly fine with Magmeteva, who had always preferred functionality over form. Sure, it was nice to admire a building with a thousand steps, but walking up it was not quite so nice. Most of the architecture in the capital seemed designed to intimidate and impress rather than sustain insignificant human life. It made one feel small rather than welcome.

The shopkeepers had already hung out lanterns on their signs and balconies in anticipation of the darkening sky. Magmeteva felt warm as she crossed under the yellow pools of light they cast. However, she couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be the only person walking around outside. It _was_ cold during the winter months, but usually there would be a large number of people outside trying to soak up as much sun as possible during the few, precious hours of sunlight. In the winter, some shopkeepers even closed their stores from sunrise to sunset and allowed their employees to take their breaks then (customer service was always better if the staff wasn't suffering from cabin fever.) Magmeteva supposed that the increased chill was keeping everyone inside. Perhaps she had just gotten used to it, which was not surprising considering she'd just spent several days on a giant block of ice.

The sounds of childish laughter echoed from the town square, and the hedge witch was pleased that at least someone else was outside. The square was a popular place for mothers to banish hyperactive children to when the weather was cold; the grassy park was surrounded by the school, the temple, and several shops so it was mostly sheltered from the wind. Also, periodically the townspeople would remove the snow in order to keep it from getting too deep for small children.

Magmeteva followed the laughter to a group of small girls who were packing snow onto snowmen. She watched them in silence, smiling at their exhuberance as they added features to their creations as they giggled. Apparently the snowmen were caricatures of boys they liked or didn't like.

"Excuse me, are you _The Witch_, ma'am?" One of the girls, a small child with braided brown hair, had noticed Magmeteva's presence and was now staring at her, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and glee. The tone suggested that the child hoped that she were the sort of witch who liked to shove children into her oven. The other children turned away from their snowmen as well, waiting eagerly for her answer, and Magmeteva fought the urge to play along. She frequently liked to tell gruesome fables to children because they relished them properly, but Oznobishin children didn't have enough exposure to real witches and wizards to be able to know the difference between fact and fiction. "No, dear," she replied instead. "I'm not _The Witch_, I'm _a_ witch who grew up here. I even played in this square when I was your age."

Brown-braids' head drooped in disappointment, but another girl with freckles turned pale upon spotting the pin-of-office on Magmeteva's scarf. "Are you the witch who comes around to snatch up kids for the army?" Freckle-face asked quietly, fear in her voice. The other children became very still, and Magmeteva knew they recognized the question as one they'd heard their parents talking about in hushed whispers. Apparently she had allowed too much time to lapse between her visits, an error she wouldn't repeat. Someone had been busy spreading rumors during her absence.

Magmeteva hesitated, trying to formulate an answer that they would understand. "I don't snatch up anybody, miss," she replied firmly in her best 'teacher' voice. "I do help people learn about their talents and gifts and then I tell them about jobs they might be happy doing. It doesn't make any sense for a person who is really secretly good at sewing to spend her time herding sheep, does it?" The girls shook their heads solemnly, a few wrinkling their noses at the thought of herding smelly sheep. "Well, it's the same thing with magic. Some people are secretly good at magic and they don't know it. So I help them find that out and then I help them find jobs they would enjoy. Do you understand?"

The children nodded obediently, although Brown-braids looked crestfallen that the explanation didn't involve any child abductions. Suddenly she perked up. "Hey, are you going to snatch up F--mfff!" Freckle-face had clapped a mitten over Brown-braids' mouth. "Don't ask stupid questions!" reprimanded Freckle-face. "The lady just explained about that and she's going to think you're dumb." Brown-braids shot Freckle-face a dirty look and was about to protest when another girl interrupted to diffuse the situation: "We should be going; it's getting late." The other girls agreed very quickly, and Magmeteva suspected that most of them were glad for an excuse to get away from her.

In unison, the girls bowed slightly to Magmeteva and then scampered off. The hedge witch watched them leave, her sensation of peace about homecoming now somewhat unsettled. The children liked her better when she was Baba Yaga than when she was the Hedge Witch. That really wasn't a fair preference, she thought sulkily, twirling her scarf through her fingers. Magmeteva turned her attention to the other people playing in the square. There was a group of boys of varying ages playing snowfort wars, and three people at the archery targets in the far back corner. One of the archers was a man who was teaching two children how to aim properly. The witch squinted her eyes to focus: the man was definitely a Flowright, judging from the tell-tale shock of wild blond hair sticking out from under his woolen cap. It was either Fdot or Fedos'i; she never tell the twins apart. One of the children was dark-haired so he was no relation. But the other child, a girl of about eight or nine, also had the wild Flowright hair. But didn't Faina only have boys?

Confused, Magmeteva mentally recounted the Flowright children: six boys, two of them twins – ah, the youngest would be about eight by now. Fai had just grown up skinny and delicate-featured, unlike his robust brothers. She had last seen the boy when he was about four. A memorable visit because the boy had stared at her with an impish grin the entire time, but it was only several hours after she had departed the Flowright compound that she realized that her bag's contents had been altered. Fai had rummaged through her bag, pilfered several items and replaced them with his idea of treasure. Magmeteva had been unable to be angry with the boy for long; there was something rather amusing about the exchange of a pretty marble for a treatise on magic. She would have to ask Fai if he had enjoyed the treatise.

Fdot - Fedos'i leaned over Fai's shoulder, giving instructions to him as Fai pulled back slowly on the taut bowstring. Magmeteva saw that Fai had assumed the correct stance (shoulders lined up with the target, back straight), but there was a steady breeze from the left and he wasn't experienced enough to compensate for the breeze by aiming off-center. He released the arrow and it drifted sideways from the target. But then the breeze abruptly shifted and the arrow corrected its course and flew back towards the target, firmly embedding itself in the target with a satisfying thunk. Fai and the dark-haired boy chortled in glee while Fdot - Fedos'i patted Fai on the back.

Magmeteva's heart pounded in excitement. She knew that breeze's shift was unnatural because she had felt the brush of magic against her skin at the exact moment the arrow shifted course. The brush was feather-light, but unmistakable. Influence of the elements was a definite hallmark of a child with magical abilities. A trained witch or wizard with the talent could manipulate the weather with spells or magical devices, but occasionally a child with the ability and a strong enough will could simply extend his desire – in this case, Fai's wish to strike the target – and provoke a favorable reaction from the element in question. Magmeteva knew that Fai couldn't have been trained in such manipulation since Faina was the only other magic user and she didn't know wind-magic.

The hedge witch wondered how many other times the boy had influenced events around him, unaware that he was manipulating them in his favor. Magmeteva smiled, feeling quite pleased for her friend. Faina had always longed for a girl to carry on the tradition of hedge-witchery in her family, but Fai was apparently filling that role well enough. He was obviously the one who had helped Faina prepare the mixture for the boulders. Faina would be thrilled when Magmeteva dropped in to tell her that Fai's ability was definitely above-average. Not stunning – Magmeteva did not detect an excessive amount of magic from the boy, although she'd have to test him thoroughly - but above-average was excellent for the villages of Northern Celes.

Actually, it was best that Fai _wasn't_ exceptional: Magmeteva had never identified an "exceptional" child, but she well knew that her duty was to report those children to the capital immediately. But exceptional talent was rare, so most children with magical gifts weren't formally tested or reported for ability until after puberty, a distinction which Brown-braids and her friends didn't understand. She would not be "snatching up" Fai anytime soon, a fact for which she was rather grateful: her best friend would _never_ forgive her for that.

On her last visit, Magmeteva had sensed some magic in the boy, yet she had not mentioned it to Faina at the time. Frequently a very young child would emanate a magical presence that would fade as the child grew; there were many conjectures about why this occurred or which children would "keep" the magic or how bad parenting or diet "chased" the magic away, but Magmeteva did not much care for silly conjecture. She simply waited for the child to age a few more years before examing a child for magical ability, which was sensible as the child would then be old enough to understand his or her responsibilities.

"Mag-ma-teeevvaa!" A soft blob attacked her from behind, wrapping warm arms around her waist. "You should be ashamed of yourself, dropping into town and passing by my bar without even stopping."

"I was working," Magmeteva choked out. She had forgotten what a bear-like hug Blanka possessed.

"Ah, did you find whatever magical thing-a-ma-jiggy you were looking for?" Blanka inquired politely, releasing the hedge witch from her grasp.

"No," answered Magmeteva breathlessly as she gratefully took a few gasps of air. She had walked the major streets of Oznobishin without sensing any magic except for Fai's. The runaway magic wasn't hiding here. "Although I did sense a bit of magic from our youngest Flowright here." Magmeteva jerked her thumb towards the archers. "I'm going to talk to him about it."

Something hooded flickered in Blanka's wide, honest eyes. "Ah, it's nothing that special. Come have a drink first and chat with me and the ladies."

Magmeteva fixed the barkeep with a sharp stare. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, well, beside The Fence and the demon sightings," protested Blanka, holding up large hands to counter Magmeteva's stare.

"_Demon_ sightings! And you're letting children play _outside_? Why did no one tell me about this?" The witch's pitch rose several octaves in indignation.

Blanka blinked slowly. "Ah, I did just tell you. And the demons aren't hanging around here; I wouldn't be walking around like this if they were." The barkeep laughed at the thought. "They've just spotted a few flitting around some of the outlying farms. That's why the Flowright boy and the Pado boy are practicing archery; they don't wanna end up as some demon's dinner. Although they're kinda scrawny, so I guess they'd be more like a demon _snack_!" The barkeep laughed again, the rough, raspy laugh of a woman who was exposed to a lot of smoke. She grasped Magmeteva by the elbow and steered her away from the square. "C'mon, I want you to try my new drink. I bet it's better than anything they can mix in that fancy-mancy capital."

Magmeteva glanced over her shoulder longingly, but the archers had already left. She wondered if the reported demon sightings had anything to do with the wandering magic; demons usually did not risk excursions into populated areas without a good reason. Magmeteva found it entirely plausible that demons would invade an isolated farm if drawn by magic. This theory definitely warranted further investigation. After drinks, of course.

* * *


	4. Enter The Hedge Witch, Part II

**III. Enter The Hedge Witch (Part II)**

"You mean The Fence's magic is hanging around _my_ home?" Incredulous, Faina pulled back the woolen drapes of the kitchen window, peering out into the darkness. "But why haven't _I _been able to see it or sense it?"

"I'm not entirely certain. All of its behavior has been rather unusual," Magmeteva replied, drumming her fingers against the dinner table. "But from what I can tell, the magic has reconfigured itself and combined with the magic of the Pul'kheriia trees. That might make it more difficult for you sense it. My guess is that when the magic escaped from its bindings, it was drawn here because your farm has the largest concentration of the trees around it. All that magical energy is undoubtedly the reason you've had a problem with demons around here."

Her expression grim, Faina closed the drapes. "I'll be glad when the magic is untangled and removed. I worry about my family, working those long hours outside, especially when it's dark all the time. Especially Fai. I've tried to get him to stay inside but he loves to play outside with his little friend – especially in the trees. That's where they were when the demons attacked them, in trees. We didn't draw the link between the trees and the attack, however. But I'll have to forbid the boys from playing in them now or even being around them without an escort." The older woman took a seat next to Magmeteva. "I have half a mind to chop them all down myself, but I guess that's just the crazy protective mother in me talking."

Magmeteva patted Faina on the shoulder. "Your domovoi's pitching a fit at the mere thought of it." With a wave, she gestured towards the stove - a cloud of ashes was falling through the grates onto the clean kitchen floor, as if a small animal were kicking them out of its burrow for spring cleaning.

Haughtily, Faina arched an eyebrow. "Oh, he's going to make a mess to get revenge, is he? Well, the joke's on Honorable Master Domovi. I'm going to make his dear _Faiik _clean it up."

"Good for you! A little housework's good for a man. And have you given Fai an amulet? That should be sufficient protection, Faina."

The older woman nodded. "Yes, I gave him and his friend holy wards to wear. I had the priest bless them for added protection." Upon seeing Magmeteva's cross expression, Faina quickly added, "I know you don't like him, but he does have ability. And if his divine connections makes my little boy distasteful to demons, then that's good enough for me. The demons do seem to have stayed away ever since, although I'm not certain if it's the ward or the bow in his hand."

"Hah, just like a dog. Carry a big enough stick and it will run away." Magmeteva said, and they both laughed. The demons' attack on the boys was upsetting, of course, but demons were a fact of life in the outer villages. A morbid sense of humor was necessary to cope with demon attacks and failed crops and freezing blizzards.

Faina took a few sips from her mug. "You aren't going to be able to untangle the magic, are you?"

"No," Magmeteva replied curtly. It stung her to admit her shortcomings, but she had always tried to be honest with Faina. Faina had been her mentor when she was a young teenager, and later Faina had encouraged her to apply for the position of hedge witch when her abilities had surpassed Faina's ability to teach her. "That magic has become permanently entangled with the trees."

"That means we'll have to have a team out here to create a new batch of magic for The Fence."

Magmeteva agreed, noting Faina's overly casual tone. She knew the other woman well enough to recognize it as a sign of tension. "It will take a few weeks for anyone to arrive. A team that large is going to move slowly, too. How much of a hardship is that going to be for the village? I walked around town and didn't see much damage, but yours is the only farm I've visited so far. I did see a lot of dead rodents on my way here."

"It's getting rough. As of now it's mostly the smaller animals that have suffered – wild animals, some game, and poultry. We've been keeping the larger animals confined to the barns and have made out okay so far, but some of our neighbors have already lost pregnant cows and ewes. Luckily no one's frozen to death yet, although that stupid Obiden was definitely tempting fate, wandering around outside half-drunk; he was found buried in a snow drift. Losing a few fingers will probably serve him well as a reminder of his stupidity."

The hedge witch nodded; Faina's words would seem unduly harsh to a southerner, but Magmeteva knew that Obiden was fortunate indeed to have not paid for such a lapse in judgment with his own life. "You have all been fortunate, although I wonder that you personally haven't been a bit more sharing with your own fortune. It's not like you, Faina."

Faina stared at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Your heat spells around your house and barn. With Fai's help, you could have aided at least a few of your neighbors. You've never been hesitant to help in the past."

There was a long silence before Faina began hesitantly. "It's not that simple, Magmeteva. I _do_ care. You saw the windblock by the lake – Fai helped me with that. We could prepare that without people hanging over our shoulders since people don't usually go by the lake without a reason. But doing heat spells around people's homes, you've got to expect that they'll be watching."

"A little curiosity never bothered you _before_."

"It's different now, you know that. People don't view magic the way they did when you were growing up. They - the young ones in particular – can't seem to view magical talent outside of a militaristic context. They aren't interested in hearing about herbs or healing applications; it's all lightning bolts and ice storms for them. I used to let Fai do little tricks and show off, but I just don't think it's a good idea anymore, especially not since there are no other children with magic in the village. Faiik is even more uptight now. I think he's half-a-mind to order Fai to just stop 'being magic' and me to stop training him. The sad part is that my husband has always loved magic so much for a man with none himself. He used to be so excited about Fai's talents but he can't stop obsessing now." Faina smiled wistfully, lines of worry etched around her eyes and mouth.

"The one who walks alone is the polar bear's dinner, eh?" Magmeteva gave her scarf a punishing yank. It was one thing for the village girls and the bar patrons to indulge in idle talk about magic, but it was depressing that her mentor had been infected by fear as well. "I suppose this is the sad standing of magic now, that we must worry about exposure instead of being able to appreciate one's gift."

"Please understand. We're living near the edge of civilization in this village. It's difficult for us to judge stories by the time they've trickled down here, and we don't know what rumors to toss out completely and which have a shred of truth to them. You know Faiik's never had any great love for Ashura-ou, but this war's made him apt to believe any negative story about the kingdom. And I have five grown sons – if they wanted to take Fai, I couldn't exactly claim hardship."

"You're worried that they're going to draft him."

"Shouldn't I be?" Faina locked eyes with Magmeteva. Magmeteva stared back, ready for an argument (they'd certainly had their share of them), but she found no accusation in her friend's eyes, only a tired pleading. The hedge witch wondered when her mentor had gotten old.

"When I saw him in the village earlier, I sensed him influencing his archery with his magic." Faina's suddenly rigid posture did not escape Magmeteva's notice. "He wasn't doing it on purpose, and it was rather subtle elemental influence. No untrained observer would notice so you needn't worry. Still, that he has such an ability without that training indicates his magic's greater than ours, and he'll probably have a boost during puberty too. Definitely above-average. But that's not what the kingdom is scouting for. They're looking for very particular types of abilities and a certain level of raw power."

"What sorts of abilities?"

Magmeteva pinched the bridge of her nose. "I shouldn't tell you. But I don't want you to keep worrying about something that's not going to happen, and I certainly don't want you to let Faiik stop you from training Fai. That would be an absolute _crime _for his talent to go to waste, which is what I recall you telling _me_ when I didn't want to go to the capital for training. But I know you are discreet and won't repeat this." She felt faintly embarrassed at lecturing her mentor, but Faina only nodded solemnly so Magmeteva continued: "They want recruits with talents in combustion, denotation – explode the enemy's ammunition, spook the animals, burn them up, that sort of thing. Premonition's of interest as well – some of the recruits have honed their abilities enough to be able to sense ambushes and approaching storms. A number of them have elemental control, but unlike Fai, they also have a massive amount of power so they can create ice storms and blizzards. As if the weather weren't cold and inhospitable enough already! So I doubt they're going to want a little boy who creates windblocks and mixes herbal cures, as they're clearly more interested in mass destruction than protection and healing."

Faina's fingers tightened around her mug's handle. "How... disgusting. I can't fathom such a twisted perversion of magic. Is... it true that they _have_ been recruiting children lately?"

The hedge witch shifted in her chair uncomfortably, wondering at the flicker of deep fear she'd just seen in Faina's eyes. Her words should have reassured her friend. Magmeteva knew that Faina was worried about Fai... but this wasn't simple worry. The older woman was _terrified_, for reasons Magmeteva couldn't puzzle out. She had never seen her mentor in such a state."Faina," she said gently. "It is true that **some** children were recruited. Very, very few. Not that I'm privy to the exact numbers, but it was only exceptional children. You don't come across those very often; that's why they're called _exceptional_. And even before the war, those children would have been taken anyway, for their own safety. We've never had this happen in our area – but apparently if a child's born with enough raw talent and not trained properly, the child can become a real danger. In the capital, we reviewed a few case studies about this... rather tragic. I know it sounds bad that children would be taken, but the kingdom's not doing it to be evil. It's for protection. You understand, right?"

Faina shook her head. "At such young ages, how can you tell if they're the type who enjoys a fight? Some people are too gentle for warfare; it goes against their nature. You put them into combat situations and it twists them up on the inside."

_And some of them were just the _**right** _type for the military._ The image of the witch who liked to "accidentally" torment peasants came unbidden to Magmeteva's memory. It was rumoured that she had been scouted young, although that witch's real age was hard to puzzle out – she always had the oddest grin plastered onto her face. It seemed incongruous to imagine a child like Fai exposed to such a person, and Magmeteva knew that she wasn't the only sadistic recruit in the army. Most just managed to disguise their cruelty better. Faina _would_ have a lot of reasons to worry if Fai were actually a candidate. "I'm not disagreeing with you, Faina, but I don't have much influence on the military's recruiting policies," Magmeteva replied sharply, rather annoyed that she had to keep answering for the military when she wasn't even _in_ it. "It's rather pointless for us to keep obsessing over something that's not going to affect your family anyway. But - I do have some good news: when the team comes to visit, it's likely that they'll bring Dedumil. He's an old seer known for having true insight. He's nosy too so he'll probably end up examining the village children for talent even if they're not of age of yet – but because he is so respected, no one will bother to re-examine them later. Whatever he says goes. He'll take one look at Fai, point at him with his bony old finger, and tell you_ exactly_ what I already told you, and then you're set. No need to worry about silly gossips or the scary army anymore."

"He sounds like quite a character. Is he a trustworthy man?"

"As honest as any Oznobishin, and just as likely to speak his mind whether or not it's asked for."

"Ah, then, we should get along splendidly with him, especially after a few rounds at Blanka's bar. What exactly does a seer do on a team of crack wizards anyway?" Faina replied with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Knock some sense into them, one hopes," Magmeteva shot back with energy, pleased that Faina felt reassured enough about the hypothetical Fai-testing to switch topics. "I _do_ seem to recall that he carries a large staff all the time. On a mission like this, though, Dedumil is needed because not all wizards and witches have the ability to discern magical patterns well. For most, it requires a lot of concentration so in a case like this one, they need someone to keep an eye on the magic while they perform the spells. For a seer of Dedumil's ability, that's not a problem at all."

"Hmm, I've usually never had trouble detecting magic myself – this latest bit with The Fence excluded – but I don't go sticking my fingers into magic that complex either. How do you suppose they'll construct a new Fence? I dug around the town archives to try to uncover some records from when The Fence was first constructed, but I only found some insipid poetry about the sun gods judging this village to be far more _pious_ and _worthy_ than the other villages, and so naturally they gifted it with The Fence."

"You heathen, am I going to have to report your heresy to the priest?" Magmeteva flashed Faina an appreciative smile. "What the team will try to do is tap into the largest source of magic around here, in this case the lake, although since that magic is rather chaotic Dedumil will have to find an area of relative calmness. It's going to be an immense amount of magic – the majority of the people on the team will be acting as grounders, only about one or two people are actually needed to manipulate the magic itself."

"Grounders? Like a lightning rod but with wizards?"

Magmeteva nodded. "It's common practice in the capital for safety purposes. When you're handling that much magic, there's always a possibility that you'll call up too much magic or it will become unruly. The person manipulating the magic is at the most risk, naturally, since he's calling up the magic in the first place. Thus the grounders link themselves to the spell-caster in case the magic overwhelms him – they will partially absorb the magic backlash as well. The more people involved, the more the backlash is divided among them. Hence they'll only suffer from minor injuries as opposed to serious injury or death."

Faina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I suppose that is also a reason that many witches and wizards carry staffs. Not only does it serve as a focal point for spells, but if a spell backfires, the staff can also act as a grounder and take some of the damage."

"If the staff is configured properly, yes. Any magical object can serve as a grounder – but other witches and wizards are usually used since they tend to have more magic. The more magic, the better the grounder."

"That makes sense. So the team's challenge is to first identify the magic to be used, then to call it up safely, then to enchant it, then harness it to the crystals. Sounds like quite a complicated process, but I suppose you do that sort of thing in the capital all the time."

"Some do, but it's still a dangerous procedure. The spells themselves are fairly intricate as well. They'll have to assemble a very talented team, and unfortunately for us that's going to take time. I'm calling a town meeting for tomorrow evening to advise everyone of the situation," said Magmeteva.

Magmeteva and Faina discussed the meeting for several more hours until Magmeteva grew drowsy from the combined effects of the drinking bout and the long trip. She excused herself, intent on crashing in the comfortable bed Faina had prepared in the guest bedroom.

Fai was waiting outside the kitchen. "Hello, Ms. Hedge Witch. Are you done speaking with Mama?" he asked, tilting his head back and smiling.

"Yes, I am. Thank you for asking," she replied, surprised by his pale beauty now that she was close enough to study him. All the Flowrights had nice blue eyes, but his possessed an unusual translucence to them that suggested secrets. Which was silly because eight-year-old boys didn't have secrets other than that they'd hidden bugs in someone's drinking glass. "Did you enjoy my treatise that you pilfered during my last visit?"

The boy had the grace to bow his head in apology. "I put it back in your room. It was really interesting."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, you little rascal." Magmeteva mussed the boy's already unruly hair with her knuckles. He giggled and ducked under her arm, escaping into the safety of his mother's kitchen. The witch rolled her eyes. _Children, honestly._

_

* * *

_

Although her weary muscles still ached all over from riding on the tobaggon, Magmeteva couldn't drop off to sleep and tossed in her bed for several hours. Too many random thoughts and theories kept bouncing around her head; she couldn't help but worry that there was some critical thread she was missing. She picked up the treatise Fai had returned and leafed through the familiar pages, her expression darkening into a frown. Someone had added commentary in a loose, whimsical scrawl alongside her own tidy notes in the margins of the treatise. The scrawl commented not only on the body of text but also on _her_ notes as well, often disagreeing with both and proposing alternate theories. The scrawl's suggestions were completely unconventional and rather crazy, yet Magmeteva felt unsettled that she was unable to outright dismiss any of them. The writer of the notes possessed an entirely different perspective than any she'd been exposed to in the capital or on her travel – but unique thinking was the only way to create breakthroughs in magic and revitalize an art that lapsed into stagnation too easily. Even if the proposals were all wrong, it could still provoke needed debate.

Whoever the writer was, he or she would definitely be noticed in the capital if the writings were discovered. The hedge witch frowned. The handwriting and arguments weren't Faina's and couldn't belong to any of the other Flowrights. It was probably the work of an itinerant who kept on the move: many "free thinkers" in all fields preferred to travel in order to escape unpleasantries. The writer had likely spent a night at the Flowrights' compound (who were known for hospitality), spotted the text that Fai left lying around, and couldn't resist adding a few notes.

Regardless, Magmeteva decided to wait to turn the text over to her superiors until she finished copying the notes. She knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she had puzzled out and discredited the writer's crazy theories. With care, she wrapped the treatise into a waterproof bag, then tucked it inside a sweater in the bottom of her traveling bag.

Suddenly the air crackled. All of Magmeteva's hairs stood on end as the atmosphere was saturated with magic. She froze in shock, unable to think. Then her sense of duty kicked in and she threw on a coat and shoes before rushing outside, where an intense blue light bleached the compound and surrounding woods white. Magmeteva winced and realized that the light was pulsating from the Pul'kheriia trees. She touched the bark of one but rapidly jerked her hand back. It was _hot._ "Reveal," she commanded, and set of runes glowed white, distinct against the trees' bark.

The hedge witch's eyes widened in recognition and she raced towards the lake where The Fence stood. However, as she approached the banks of the lake, a pulse of energy knocked her to the ground. A small figure stood behind a section of The Fence, enveloped in the same intense light that radiated from the Pul'kheriia. Magmeteva squinted at the figure, shading her eyes with her fingers. Those features were unmistakable. "Fai!" she called weakly, unable to regain her balance as the spell intensified. Fai did not turn around, totally absorbed in the runes that danced in the air as his hands wove an intricate pattern to enchant the summoned magic. The wild magic writhed and hissed like an enraged serpent, but the boy ignored its threats.

The overflow of magic rolled over Magmeteva in relentless waves, pounding and pushing and pulling her as if she were a toy sailboat that had accidentally gotten caught in a _real_ storm.. Magmeteva started shivering uncontrollably as the magic began to overwhelm her magic-sensitive senses. The witch crouched into a ball, pulling her knees up to her stomach as she willed herself not to throw up. Blood pounded in her eardrums as the magic increased to a fever pitch and she murmured a few words in a futile attempt to dampen the effects around her. _It can't last much longer, can it?_ Magmeteva gripped her scarf desperately, as if it were a lifeline.

Only once before had she experienced such power, a violent yet mercifully brief surge during her training in the capital.

They said Ashura had been angry that day.

_Ashura. Just like that man, this boy... _Dread gripping her heart, the hedge witch managed to lift her swimming head a little. In the center of intensely glowing maelstrom, Fai still stood waving his hands like a conductor of magic, bidding it to play his music and dance to his tempo. The winds of the magic whipped the child's hair and clothes viciously, but his expression remained focused and calm as if it were only natural that he would be obeyed. Like Ashura-ou, the man whom people feared and worshipped as a god.

She'd found her missing thread, the one that tied all the loose ends together. Fai wasn't "above-average;" he was a prodigy. One with terrifying, unnatural talent in both theory and power. Somehow his talent had been concealed to her, yet the boy had chosen to expose himself. Magmeteva swore to herself that she'd beat the truth out of the lot of them later when her head stopped screaming that it going to split open. That was_ if_ she survived, the witch noted grimly as her vision began to spin, and she wondered again how long she could tolerate the overload. If Fai slipped up, the magic could very well wipe them and the surrounding area off the face of the map. And even if she could manage to move, interrupting a spell of such magnitude would be suicidal.

The spinning abruptly ceased and Magmeteva crashed into the earth as if she had just toppled off a suddenly halted merry-go-round. The witch lay stunned for a moment then cautiously moved her limbs, testing them. Her body stung from the impact, but the sensation of nausea was gone. The magic overflow had ceased, although she wasn't certain of how much time had actually passed.She willed her eyes to unfocus and saw that the once-wild magic now lay twisted and tame around the crystals, configured into familiar appropriate patterns. Fai had correctly executed the spells and anchored the magic to The Fence, which was a very good thing as it meant she wasn't going to die just yet.

Magmeteva scrambled to her feet and Fai looked over his shoulder at her, finally noticing her presence. His mouth formed an "o" of surprise and he turned around, but his legs wobbled and he collapsed onto the ground. "You're in a lot of trouble, little rascal," Magmeteva growled, kneeling by his side. "You're sharp enough to scribble notes in my treatise so you're smart enough to realize that you aren't allowed to practice that sort of magic without permission. You could have **killed** us."

Fai gave her a smile that was both apologetic and despairing. "But I just wanted to make everything okay. I fixed it so we don't need to have anyone come here, right?" His eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay awake. Magmeteva placed two fingers across a carotid on his neck. The boy's skin was hot to her touch, but his pulse was steady. He had simply overexerted himself, which did not surprise Magmeteva. A wizard of lesser ability would be dead.

"We'll discuss that later. You go to sleep now." The boy nodded sleepily and promptly fell asleep, his breathing thin because of his exertion. Magmeteva unbuttoned Fai's high-collared shirt so that he could breathe easier. Two chains with pendants hung around his neck, and Magmeteva turned them over in her fingers, studying them. One was the holy ward Faina had mentioned earlier, and the other was a masking amulet that had Faina's magical markings. Magmeteva cursed. The holy ward alone was sufficient to conceal a person from demons, but to trick trained witches and wizards, a masking amulet was necessary. Fai's power was such that the amulet didn't completely mask his power, but her assessment of his power had been skewed.

Faina hadn't mentioned this amulet. Ergo, Faina had deliberately deceived her. And not just Faina. Magmeteva's mind kicked into overdrive (now that she was free from the threat of imminent death) and she began to connect the dots. Saadak was Faiik's best friend; Faiik discussed just about everything with him. Saadak hadn't been worried about the village's priest getting in trouble with the authorities; he was worried they would discover Fai. The children in the square and the women in the bar had also behaved oddly: undoubtedly they'd witnessed the boy perform some incredible feat of magic and hence were completely justified in fearing his abduction into the military. No wonder the Flowrights weren't allowing Fai to perform magic in public any longer. _They were all plotting together to deceive me, the **outsider**._ Magmeteva dabbed at her eyes with her scarf, surreptitiously wiping away foolish hot tears. _Some tough witch I am._

The demons and wandering magic were drawn to the Flowright compound not because of the Pul'kheriia but Fai; magic called to magic, stronger to weaker. _He_ was the one who'd written in her treatise and had probably located the information about The Fence from the archives before his mother's search and long before Magmeteva's arrival. But the only information he had been missing _she_ had readily volunteered in Faina's kitchen – he hadn't known that he could substitute his trees as grounding devices. Fai hadn't been waiting to speak to his mother; he'd been eavesdropping on the conversation. Hearing about Dedumil had pushed him to act quickly. An amulet would deceive _her_ but no amulet or trick could deceive a talented seer; she had said as much during the conversation in the kitchen.

"Oh gods, is he alright?"

Magmeteva looked up. Faiik and Faina stood about thirty meters away, frozen from the shock of seeing their youngest prostrate and still on the ground.

"He's fine. Just magical fatigue," Magmeteva replied curtly. The two rushed forward and Faiik swept the boy into his arms. "Found something of yours." Magmeteva pushed the amulet roughly into Faina's hands.

Faina's mouth opened and closed as she struggled for an explanation. "Don't bother," Magmeteva said. "I already figured it out on my own, so don't insult me with any more lies."

"I didn't lie," Faina said softly, her eyes downcast.

"A lie of omission is the same as a direct lie, and your omissions were wide enough to fit the whole damn lake into them! I _trusted_ you. I trusted all of you. I bet you all had a good laugh, playing me for a fool. Well, you could have gotten us _killed_"--Magmeteva waved in the direction of the crystals--"letting a little boy tamper with this sort of magic!"

"I had no idea Fai planned to do this. Do you honestly think I'd be letting my child mess with such crazy magic, especially so late at night by _himself_? And I didn't want to deceive you. None of us did. We just didn't want you to have to choose between loyalty to your title and loyalty to us. Your achievements mean a lot to us too, you know." The older woman's eyes began to mist over.

"We need to get him inside," said Faiik flatly, standing up with Fai pressed to his chest. He had wrapped his son in his own huge coat. "It's too cold out here." They trudged through the snow back to the compound in silence, except for Faina's soft crying. Magmeteva refused to look in her direction, not wanting to begrudge any sympathy. Once inside, Faiik laid Fai in front of the stove's fire and Faina prepared a meal of cold cheese and meat upon Magmeteva's order: Fai would be extremely hungry when he woke up.

"Now you should both leave," Magmeteva commanded, her posture steeled. "I will speak to him _alone _when he wakes up. I won't tolerate any further interference in my investigation." Faiik's face flushed with anger and he began to protest, but Faina placed a hand on his arm and led her husband from the kitchen, murmuring to him.

With a sigh, Magmeteva pulled up a chair next to the sleeping boy and sat down wearily, propping her chin up with a hand. The flames in the stove flickered invitingly, but her insides still felt frozen and twisted. She prided herself on her ability to solve problems, but this one didn't have a palatable solution. Following her standing orders would be betraying the trust of her village and friends – she currently hated them all in principle, but Magmeteva knew her anger would subside eventually. And the boy. Gods. Now that the amulet was removed and they were inside the compound away from the magical forces outside, Magmeteva could finally appreciate the quality of his magic. It emanated from him, pure and potent; Magmeteva felt herself drawn to him as if caught in a magnetic field. Magic called to magic, and his magic would always attract other wizards and witches, including the sort who wouldn't hesitate to manipulate him. His beauty only complicated the matter. He was a beautiful child who would likely grow into a beautiful man. _It would have been better for you if you'd been born large and intimidating_, Magmeteva thought sadly. _Or maybe at least plain and uninteresting like I am._ It was best not to stand out too much when one rubbed shoulders with the powerful and dangerous. Fai didn't even have the advantage of experience or age to protect himself and Magmeteva didn't think she could stomach being his betrayer.

Yet simply not reporting the matter was a poor solution as well. The evening's debacle had demonstrated that Fai was not afraid to dabble and experiment in very powerful magic. He could easily harm or kill himself and others. In such a case, he would end up being exposed anyway and she and the village would be punished. How exactly, she didn't know. She did not know of any cases of people conspiring to conceal magic talent from Ashura-ou, which either meant that no one had been dumb enough to try or worse, that they had and were never heard from again. And she, the Hedge Witch, was the one ultimately responsible.

Fai stirred after several hours and sat up abruptly. "Where are my parents?"

"They're here. They're fine. You can see them after we have a talk. But first, eat before you starve to death." Magmeteva thrust the platter of food into his hands. Fai ate slowly, then looked at her questioningly.

She sighed. _Where to begin... _ "Fai, did your mother tell you why you wearing the necklaces?"

The boy fingered the lapels of his father's coat. "The ward protects against demons. The amulet... hides me from other people with magic."

"What do you know about our capital?"

"It's our country's birthplace of magic. Most of the magical developments come from there. There's a school with lots of talented witches and wizards there too. The king lives in the capital too and he's the most powerful." It was a textbook answer.

"What you did tonight, did you figure that out by yourself?" Fai hesitated and Magmeteva gave him a stern look.

"Mostly," he said quietly. "Mama taught me basic magic so I added onto that using what I read in some books. I practiced by doing the spell in parts, just to make sure I understood it right. Then I put it all together. Am I in trouble?"

"You're in trouble with _me_ and that's about the worst kind of trouble there is," she said crossly. "How good at magic do you think you are? Compared to other people."

Fai furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't really know. You and Mama are the only magic people I know. You're stronger than Mama, but I think I might be stronger than you," he said apologetically as if afraid of causing offense. "Mama told me I have lots of talent, but then she said that it's more important that I'm considerate to other people."

"She's right, of course. Even a great wizard is trashy if he doesn't behave properly. Fai, I'll be frank with you. You are one of the most talented people I've met." She did not say _the_ most talented because it was unwise to tell a child such things; it made them lazy and overconfident. "How would you feel about coming to the capital with me?"

"I... don't know. I would like to learn more about magic. I've read almost all the magic books in the village and I don't think Mama has much more to teach me." He paused. "When I perform a new spell, I feel really happy. Like I've created something beautiful. Magic to me is the most beautiful thing in the world. You can see magic... didn't the magic tonight seem beautiful to you too?" A smile spread across his face as if he were seeing the magic again in his mind's eye.

Magmeteva nodded. Now that she thought back on it, it had been beautiful. Beautiful even though its raw energy horrified her and made her sick. She didn't know how to explain to Fai that not everyone loved magic for its beauty, though. It seemed wrong to take that from a child.

"But I don't want to leave my family. I really like playing with my brothers and my dad. And my mom – she says that when she's really sad, I'm the only one who can make her smile. She needs me. I think I need her too." Tears formed in his eyes. "If I leave, they can't come with me. And I won't get to see them either, will I?"

"I don't know," Magmeteva said hoarsely, burying her hands in her scarf. The scarf was the only thing she had left of _her_ mother. Their house had caught on fire when she was thirteen and her mother had soaked the scarf in water and wrapped it around her mouth and nose as a barrier to the smoke. She had made it out. Her mother hadn't.

"Please let me stay until I'm a little older. When I turn thirteen I'm old enough to make my own decisions and then no one here will blame you if I leave. I think I'll be ready to leave then; I'll be bigger and smarter. I promise not to do any dangerous magic again... you can leave me a list of what I can practice and what I can't. Please. I promise to be good," he pleaded.

Magmeteva's eyes began to sting and she looked away.

* * *

In the end, she hadn't been able to say no.

Magmeteva gave Fai and his parents strict instructions on where he could practice magic (_only_ away from the village and any magic sources like the trees and the lake), which ones he could do (she gave him a notebook crammed with practical, safe magic), and warned him to only practice the more difficult ones in his mother's presence. "If you don't follow these rules, be warned that it could have grave consequences," she said, staring at Fai. "You told me your mother taught you to be considerate to others – part of magic is always being aware how your spells could affect others. It's one thing if you blow yourself to bits and entirely another if you involve bystanders. And make no mistake, harming someone through magical means will leave a scar on you that you will _never_ be able to erase. It's not like hitting someone with a rock or an arrow or even your fists. You'll feel their screams in your soul."

Fai turned pale and shook his head solemnly. Convinced that he would not forget her words, the hedge witch promised to return once a year to check up on him and give him a new notebook.

She glanced back only once as the toboggan slid over the lake, taking her far from her village.

* * *

**More notes: **

Author's Notes: Regarding the spelling of our favorite wizard's name, I've been spelling it as "Fai" because that reminds me to pronounce it to rhyme with "Rye." And when Fai/Fye/Fay's name is pronounced in the anime, it always rhymes with rye. In Japanese, the "a" sounds like the one in "father" and "i" is pronounced like the one in "medium." I don't, however, really think that the spelling of his name is a big deal, and Romanization from Japanese katakana is not always an exact science. (Lately CLAMP has spelled his name as "Fay D. Flourite" so I guess that's the official version.)

I ended up writing a lot about the huskies. I love working-breed dogs and I did research into huskies and fell in love with them. They're sweet and loyal and powerful and intelligent: What's not to like? The bit about Captain Saadak giving them commands in different languages is based on RL - I saw a sheep herder coordinate his border collies by speaking to one in English, one in Spanish, and one in whistles. It was awesome.

Regarding the temple, I did base Celes on Russia and some rural Russian villages have a lot of Eastern influence so you get a fascinating blend of Russian and Eastern architecture, but the villages still have that "cozy" feel to them. The capital, on the other hand, is like Moscow in my mind. Intimidating and gorgeous and huge. The government is not unlike that of Stalinist Russia - there is a lot of fear and violence and unexplained disappearances that everyone knows about but is afraid to discuss.

I hope I portrayed child Fai realistically. As an adult, he's definitely intelligent and he seems to have risen to a high rank despite his youth, so I assume he was a child prodigy. Adult Fai is also portrayed as being sensitive and thoughtful, thus it's natural to assume he was like that as a child. I added the part about the archery practice since Fai seems to be a master archer when we see him in Shurano with Kurogane - and six months really isn't enough time to develop those sorts of skills (being able to shoot someone in a specific body part like an arm.)

Let me know if the magical descriptions seem off or anything. It's just some stuff I cobbled together (I haven't read fantasy literature consistently for several years, but I do want the magic in Celes to have an internal logic.)

I'm not sure when the next chapter will come out. Right now I'm only planning one more to explain when things go really wrong for poor Fai and how he ends up with Ashura-ou. I don't care for Ashura's character (I read the bits with him in it in RG Veda), not that I hate him, but I'm just not that interested. So please don't expect to see Fai in the capital. I might write a one shot or something about it but currently I'm thinking about a series of short stories about "Fai and Kurogane in Shurano" that focus on the language barrier angle. Fun fun.

_Replies to comments_ ('cause I really do appreciate them and I read them carefully):

sable-fahndu: Wow, that's a really high compliment. I hope you like these latest installments.

123: Ah, glad you agree. And I like little Fai so much. It would be hard to torment him. CLAMP won't have any qualms, though. Heh. I'm not sure if Fai's power is linked to an element like the Rayearth girls, but some of the pictures CLAMP has drawn suggest a possible wind connection. He also likes to sit in high places. :nods: There is a difference between natural magic and learned magic- I hope I'm making the distinction clear in the story so far.

LoversPastForgotten: Well... I didn't update soon, but I hope you will be entertained. ;;

Nougat: Heheh, I wondered if readers would like the "F" naming scheme. It makes it easier for me to remember their names and it seems like something quirky parents would do. And there's no way Fai was raised by "normal" parents. :)

EverNeverMore: You're welcome! I'm glad you enjoyed the analysis. I did a bit of research for this chapter too... I want the story to seem "authentic." Of course, my problem is not spending too much time reading up on really interesting topics when I should be writing. --

Dust-in: Chi was out back smoking pot (that's why she's always got that cute vacant stare, I think.) I couldn't convince her to put it down and participate in the story. I'm sorry.


	5. King's Call

**Warning:** I issued one for violence in the first chapter. I will reiterate that warning now – but if you've read CLAMP's more action-oriented series, I doubt you'll be particularly shocked by anything in this. Not for the squeamish.

**Chapter IV: King's Call**

Some years prior to the events described in the prologue.

He did _not_ want to be here.

Dedumil shifted irritably again on a magnificently carved stone bench, which was decidedly not designed to suit the bones of the arthritic or probably any being with real flesh for that matter. Whatever idiot had designed the palace didn't have a lick of sense in his brain, it was all arches with too high ceilings and sweeping marble floors with fancy-foo-foo patterns and historical murals designed to terrify children. He didn't mind that last part so much, but overall the drafty, hard palace didn't compare to his modest, well-sealed home with slightly worn but soft couches and impressive stock of imported teas. Dedumil clucked his tongue in disapproval.

Yet, he was here. He was here because in all his dreams, he was always here, waiting with a bunch of frauds and idiots for an audience with the king. It wasn't a question of his personal preference; it was simply the way things were. Damned visions. People seemed to think being a seer was all fun and games ("ooh, you can just guess the winning lottery draw, right?" was his personal favorite) but more often than not, it was an inconvenient pain. He would have _much_ preferred to have a vision of himself stretched out on a beach in a tropical country, favorite book in hand.

But visions didn't work that way. A vision wasn't something one could manipulate in his own favor, and often it wasn't about anything relevant to one's own life or town or even country ( although he was experienced enough that sometimes he could actually direct his visions towards particular events or people.) But the majority of his visions were still random, and more than a few of them involved the fates of people with curious colorings and clothes and odd languages that he didn't recognize, not even from his extensive readings. Sometimes the dreams didn't even make sense - in one particularly fascinating dream, Dedumil had seen a magical stuffed animal sprout wings and cheerfully open its mouth to gargantuan proportions before devouring a group of unfortunate people.

The mostly young and mostly male fools sitting near him didn't appreciate the nature of visions, though. Like most seers and fortune tellers, they liked to deceive themselves into pretending that their "visions" were always useful and easily interpreted. Currently they were chatting with each other, reading each other's palms and predicting whether or not they would get lucky tonight. Surprisingly, a few of them _did_ possess a small amount of talent - like the acne-pocked brat who accurately predicted that his new friend would get slapped silly by a barmaid - but Dedumil knew that none of them had enough talent to read the future of the kingdom for the king.

If they did, they wouldn't be smiling and laughing.

Dedumil clucked his tongue again and decided to curl up for a nap on the bench. It was probably against the stupid court rules, but in Dedumil's book it was rude to keep an old man waiting so that made them even. A nap had the added bonus of blocking out the inane chatter of the other candidates.

Dedumil wasn't certain how long he'd been sleeping when a timid servant shook his shoulder gently to inform him he was granted audience with the king. A quick glance around the hall revealed that only two other people were still waiting. Dedumil took his time in getting up and stretching his sore limbs before picking up his staff.

He followed the servant down several maze-like corridors and through a huge banquet hall before the servant stopped abruptly at a closed doorway. The servant bowed and gestured at the doorway. "Not going to introduce me?" Dedumil said dryly. The servant's eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously, then quickly scurried away. _Feh, guess I'll have to show myself in._ He opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it quietly on the grounds that quiet demonstrated respect. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. The room was small and sparsely furnished with a few chairs and a window with drawn curtains. A man dressed in voluminous robes stood near the window, his hands crossed behind his back as he gazed outside. Dedumil couldn't see the man's face, but the sweep of inky hair was unmistakable from the numerous portraits of the king he'd seen. But even if Dedumil hadn't been able to recognize him from that hair, he would have known the king from the power that emanated from the man. As soon as Dedumil had entered the city, he had felt drenched in the king's presence.

After several minutes of silence, the king stirred slightly as if waking from a reverie. "You are the seer Dedumil, yes?" Ashura's voice was deep yet gentle.

"People call me that, my lord," Dedumil answered carefully.

"Why are you here today, Dedumil?"

"Because I'm meant to be here."

The king turned away from the window at that, a faint smile on his lips. "I've heard that several times today."

_I bet you have, _Dedumil thought darkly. He should have gone first – hadn't the idiots running the court ever heard the saying "age before beauty" or "age before brats"? The king walked a few steps closer, and Dedumil noted with some surprise that the king moved with a cat-like grace despite his heavy robes. But the portraits hadn't captured that aspect – or the deep resignation that lay in the king's eyes. That puzzled Dedumil; one didn't expect to see such an emotion in a man who held the fate of the country in his hands. Arrogance, yes. Pride, yes. But not a resignation that almost bordered on humility.

"By all accounts, it seems you are a well-read and thoughtful man. What do you think of my campaigns, seer?"

Dedumil swallowed and leaned heavily on his staff. To speak frankly could be considered treason, yet the idea of tip-toeing around, even for a king, brought a sour taste to his mouth. He hadn't reached the age of seventy-two just to start telling people what they wanted to hear. "I think they're a stupid waste of energy and people, but I think that of wars in general," Dedumil said tartly. "But your reason for the campaigns is sensible."

The king raised his eyebrows slightly, and Dedumil took that to meant he should continue. "The nobles have gotten far too arrogant and power-greedy. All their constant in-fighting is being watched with too much interest by our little friends to the south and the west - the nobles are weakening the country and making her vulnerable to outside invasion. So you are breaking the nobles before they break the country."

"You agree the campaigns are necessary? But most of my subjects resent them."

Dedumil wondered if the king honestly cared what his subjects thought; he'd always figured the royal sort viewed the lower classes as a sort of cattle, except more troublesome and prone to wandering than the average cow. Perhaps it was some sort of fancy court trap question that he was expected to recognize and answer in a particular way. Well, if that's what the king wanted, he shouldn't have invited _him. _ "Hmph, I'm an old man. Too old to start speaking a new damn language and eating weird things for dinner. Your moves will keep the country together, and maybe remove some of the more cruel nobles from power. But you're moving fast and fighting on a lot of different fronts, and that's putting strain on the country. I don't think there would be so much ill will towards the throne if you moved a little more slowly."

"I do seem hasty, don't I?" Ashura smiled again, but it never reached his eyes. "Tell me, seer, can fate be altered?"

Dedumil furrowed his brow at the abrupt shift in topic, but he had an answer ready; he'd been asked that one many times before. "That's a hard question to answer, if an answer's really even possible at all. There are certain things that can be altered easily, usually the sort of things that aren't of much consequence at all. Like whether or not you're going to have your eggs poached, scrambled, or fried for breakfast. But more consequential – like whether or not you will marry the farmer's daughter or the baker's daughter – the less likely you can change that fate. You can almost certainly _not_ marry a princess if you're not of royal blood. There are always a few threads of possibility that the marriage _could_ happen, but you would have to alter several other threads to even create the possibility of that fate. And of course, if you go around messing with fate that much, you'll probably open up some really new nasty, extraordinary fates for yourself as well. That's why it's usually not worth it to fool around with fate too much; people generally want to change fate to make things better and more certain for themselves, not worse and more unpredictable."

The king inclined his head slightly as if weighted down by Dedumil's answer. "Ah, that's what I was afraid of. But let's speak of something more cheerful than politics and fate, shall we?"

"I've been told the weather's always safe to discuss. It's still damned cold, in case you were wondering," Dedumil grumbled.

The king laughed. It was a pleasant sound. "I apologize for not meeting you in a room that was heated better. This must be uncomfortable for you with your arthritis. Please, sit down." He motioned gracefully to a plush chair and Dedumil sank gratefully into it. Ashura crossed his hands behind his back again and took a few steps towards the center of the room, his back towards Dedumil again. "I've been thinking of starting a family lately."

Dedumil poked at the chair discriminatingly. It was high quality fluff, much better than the stone bench. "Congratulations, has my king found the right lady?" Dedumil replied politely, wondering where Ashura was going with this. He didn't pay much attention to that particular sort of politics, but he was completely certain that Ashura already knew that. The man probably knew what brand of tea was his favorite.

"Not in particular, that's really not so important to me as long as she's of good character and breeding. But – I want a son. Surely this would bring some happiness to me and my kingdom."

There was a question in the king's last statement. Dedumil frowned. He'd had many visions of Celes, Ashura, and the wars. But he'd never seen a future with heirs, which now struck him as rather odd. Surely heirs were inevitable. Dedumil relaxed his eyes and stretched his sight out towards Ashura; he could easily divine such an important part of the king's future if he were in the same room. Ah, now he saw a son – one with the same dark hair as the king, a rather cute, smiling brat with a silly nature, giggling as he learned to walk.

Then another vision flashed before Dedumil's eyes. The boy's back was turned to him, but Dedumil could tell from his build that he was older, probably a teenager. Unlike his father, his build was slight, but as the boy turned slowly, Dedumil noticed the same grace in his movements. But then Dedumil noticed the enormous sword the boy held in his hands. It was dripping with blood, and there were bodies at his feet, hundreds of bodies. The boy tilted his head towards the bodies and smiled mockingly at them as he raised the sword to his lips and slowly licked the sword clean.

Suddenly the boy paused, and turned in Dedumil's direction as if he sensed the uninvited voyeur. The boy met his horrified stare with a pair of golden eyes, pupils slitted like a cat's. His gaze was cold and calculating and utterly _inhuman._

Dedumil gasped in surprise and recoiled mentally, throwing an arm up in front of his face. But in his hasty retreat, he fell backwards into another sequence of visions.

"Why are you crying?" The king's voice was as soft as ever, but there was a note of steel in it that cut through the fog in Dedumil's mind.

"Your eyes... his eyes... they're gold. That coronet you wear, I didn't realize..." Dedumil choked for a moment, overwhelmed by what he'd witnessed. In his haste to withdraw from the vision of the future prince, he'd stumbled _backwards_ into the past of of the Ashura family and learned a secret he hadn't particularly want to know. He breathed slowly, forcing his racing heart to slow down so he could continue: "Your coronet is a seal. Your eyes are golden, not because of genetics, but because of the demon that slumbers inside you, my lord. It was passed onto you by your forefathers –– by your father, and his father before him, and his father before him. It's been dormant so far, but your magic is waking it up... it's beginning to stir. That's why you put that coronet on. My lord, you must not have a son! He will certainly birth that evil within himself. He **will** become the demon."

Ashura was quiet for several moments. "And then?"

"It will create chaos in Celes because your campaign will ultimately be successful: you will succeed in subjugating the nobles. Thus when the demon awakens, there won't be any force capable of stopping it. The country will be destroyed, if not by the demon, then by her enemies who won't hesitate to strike when the country is left leaderless."

Ashura moved back towards Dedumil, his movements deliberate and predatory. He did not stop until his face was mere inches from Dedumil's and pinned the seer with a gaze like a scalpel as if he would peel back the layers of his skin and read his mind. "You_ are_ a true seer. I've been waiting for years for someone who could see. All the others before you told me of the 'great joy and celebrating' my son's birth would bring the kingdom. Now you're the only other person alive who knows the truth: would you serve your king, who shelters a _demon_ in his body?"

Dedumil forced himself not flinch or drop his eyes, even though he could sense a power stirring inside Ashura's body. He thought of the demon prince Ashura and imagined that _creature_ curled up inside the king's stomach, golden eyes slit with anger as it glared at him through layers of flesh and robes. Exactly how much influence did it wield over the king, and would it allow him to live now that he knew its nesting place? "Why does my king desire my services?" he managed to whisper.

"I will not have children - I had already decided this, despite my question to you earlier. That was merely a test. My line will die with me, and my only legacy will be a Celes strong enough to survive without me. I must appoint a successor with noble blood to succeed me, and I need your insight to select one who won't exploit my subjects, someone of wisdom and character."

Dedumil could scarcely believe that the king would be willing to abdicate his throne for the sake of the kingdom. All people were basically selfish, the only difference with those of royal blood was the incredible degree to which they _could_ be selfish. Wasn't that why he had always refused to serve any of them? But what would the king – and his demon - do after and if he abdicated his throne?

Ashura saw the question in his eyes and answered it. "As for the demon... after I secure Celes, I will have myself and this demon put away. **You** will also find this person, the person capable of... sealing us."

The terrible resignation in the king's eyes suddenly made sense, and Dedumil finally understood why in all his visions he'd been meant to come to the palace. He also understood why he would do whatever he could to help his king achieve his purpose, as extraordinary as it was. Dedumil stood up, placing his hand over his heart as he bowed stiffly and briefly. "Please accept my services, my king. As long as I live, I'll help you achieve your purposes."

"Why? Why serve me?"

Ashura was fond of questions, Dedumil decided crankily. "Because you love your country. That's enough for me, demon or not." He did not mention the other reason - that he was hardly dumb enough to refuse a king.

"Do you see any hope for my Celes?"

The seer frowned as he considered the logistics involved. It would only be possible for Ashura to be sealed by someone stronger than both Ashura _and_ the demon. Dedumil wasn't certain such a person even _existed_, and if that person did, finding him or her would be another challenge altogether. But perhaps not impossible, if the king exercised new privileges throughout the land under his control... maybe with the creation of a registry of children born with magic, and exerting more authority over the hedge witches and wizards. Maybe, just maybe, that thread could be found. New possibilities were already emerging with just with this conversation. "There might be a thread. Whether we will find it – and the consequences should we find it – are unknown, but frankly, things couldn't get worse, so we might as well try."

* * *

(Three years after the events of Chapter III)

Fai's fingers twitched rebelliously, and Fai sighed. They were positively _itching_ to do a bit of magic right now. Fai bit his lip and wondered if sitting on his hands would suppress the urge. Perhaps he shouldn't have come to sit up the roof: it was one of his favorite places, but the feel of the wind rustling his hair as it whispered in his ears always made him feel magic-y. And sometimes the wind carried currents of natural magic that seemed to be practically begging him to tinker with it.

Fai really hoped that the priest was right and that the sun gods _did_ spy on people to see if they were behaving, because he _deserved_ points for his good behavior. (Frankly, he'd always had his doubts about the existence of gods in general, but even if they were floating around the atmosphere somewhere, why would they waste their time spying on people? Most people were incredibly boring, which is why he often felt compelled to create his own entertainment.)

"Hey, Gargoyle Boy! You aren't doing magic up there, are you?"

Fai crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, although sadly the gesture was wasted since it was completely dark. Fedos'i had been way too nosy ever since Fdot had gone and gotten himself hitched. Mama had said Fedos'i was missing his twin, and he probably just needed to find a wife too. Fai wholeheartedly agreed and was doing his best to find his brother a woman who actually deserved him, but there were only a few unmarried women in the village and they were all too nice to deserve Fedos'i's company. Thus, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, Fedos'i was well on his way to becoming a gossipy old busy-body. It _was_ true that Mama and Papa had told his brothers to keep an eye on him to make certain he wasn't doing unsupervised magic, but Fedos'i acted as if he'd been handed the Mandate of Heaven personally. He was always sneaking around, trying to catch Fai doing magic. Of course, Fai aimed to please, so he jinxed Fedos'i every now and then just to keep him smug and happy.

"You really shouldn't sit like that, Fai. That horrid posture is bad for a growing boy."

"It's okay, I'll be sure to let every one know when I'm a hunch-back at fifteen that you warned me, but I _just_ wouldn't listen." Fai liked to sit crouched on his ankles, his arms hanging by his side. It was a relaxing pose to hold because he didn't have to concentrate on it at all, and he was usually busy thinking about interesting things. He liked to slouch and lean in general, and it was just as well, too; if he walked around straight-backed, arms swinging neatly by his side like Fedos'i wanted, people would think he was training for the army or something stupid like that. The other villagers were _always_ watching him, and Fedos'i didn't understand that he had taken precautions to deal with this. Like his smile: it irritated Fedos'i that he was almost always smiling, but the smile was a way to get people to relax around him. At first, Fai was pretty certain he had smiled because it made his Mama happy, but eventually he'd realized that people didn't take him as seriously if he smiled constantly. A person who was always smiling wasn't a threat: how could he be possibly be thinking of anything of significance? Fai also watched his language when he was around most people and made certain to stick to small talk and deliberately peppered his speech with extra "likes," "uh-huhs," and "reallys." He was pleased when he'd overheard a woman tell another that "the youngest Flowright is sweet, but a bit of an airhead compared to his brothers."

Being an airhead was safe. Being a child with lots of magic wasn't. Since Magmeteva's visit about three years ago, Fai had become acutely aware that there were a small number of people in the village who would just as soon pack him off to the capital or hand him off to the nearest officer if they could. Magmeteva and Mama had pretended that they were the ones who had fixed The Fence after finding a "special shortcut" in the town archives, and most people were happy to accept their explanation. But not everyone.

"Hey, are you listening? We need to leave soon or we're going to be late for the viewing!"

Fai opened an eye lazily. Fedos'i had reached the indignant stage, judging from the hands on his hips. He'd been rambling on for several minutes about how Fai was to behave at the Aurora Borealis viewing, but Fai had used his special tuning-out powers to ignore him. He already knew how to behave. And it _was_ about time to leave, but he couldn't give into Fedos'i easily or his brother would become insufferable. Fai spotted a loose pebble near his feet, so he picked it up and casually flicked it at his brother's leg.

With a yelp, Fedos'i jumped backwards. Fai knew his brother hadn't been able to see the pebble in the dark, but he had definitely felt it. "You're putting a curse on me, aren't you! I'm telling Mother, Mister Magic!" Fedos'i squawked indignantly.

Fai grinned as Fedos'i scrambled inside the house. He stood to his feet, leisurely stretching his limbs like a lazy cat. He lit his lantern and clenched his teeth around its handle. His hands freed, Fai then dropped nimbly from the roof to the top of the compound fence, which he quickly descended.

"Hiya Fai. Putting 'curses' on Fedos'i again?" Prach was waiting alone in the kitchen, his ever-present quiver strapped to his back.

"Yeah, the Curse of Gravity this time. He's lucky he survived." Fai grinned.

Prach stuck his lower lip out in a mock pout. "That's not fair! You swore you'd let me watch if you were gonna hex someone to death."

"It was really inconsiderate of me. I promise I'll make it up to you at the viewing: how about a special 'Death By Insects'?"

The dark-haired boy laughed. "Yeah, Fedos'i's overdue for a date with his favorite pincer bugs. A date _down_ his coat. C'mon, let's hurry up and catch up to your folks; they left awhile ago. I already got your bow and quiver from your room, too," Prach said as he took the bows off the rack by the front door.

With a stab of guilt, Fai took his bow and quiver and lantern and followed Prach outside. Prach was fanatical about keeping his bow and arrows with him at all times and he even slept with them in his bed. It had been several years since the demons had attacked them, but Prach still woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, sweating and screaming. Fai knew this was entirely his fault: Magmeteva had explained to him in one of her letters that the demons had almost certainly attacked the two of them because they were drawn to his magic, but she had also assured him that they needn't worry about further attacks from any stray demons if they kept wearing Faina's amulets and if Fai were careful to keep his magic under control.

The part that made Fai feel really guilty, however, was that he'd shown Prach the letter and Prach hadn't even been angry with him. He had just shrugged and said "'S'okay, man. Everyone's got a hangup or some crazy problem. Yours just has really big teeth. But you're my friend, so I'll deal." Fai considered himself lucky to have a friend at all, especially such a forgiving one. He'd stopped attending school in the village, partially because the pace and content of the curriculum bored him, but mostly because he didn't get along that well with the other kids. He was different, and most children viewed differences as a weakness to be exploited. The majority were content to define themselves by what they were _not _in orderto secure their positions within their individual packs. Sometimes their behavior reminded Fai of the time he'd witnessed Captain Saadak's dog team encounter a stray wolf that had wandered too close to the village.

He'd felt sorry for the wolf.

Usually, Fai preferred the company of adults; adults weren't usually as obsessed with fitting in as children, perhaps because they already had their own permanent packs at home and didn't need to constantly maneuver for a spot. Plus, charming adults was ridiculously easy; they practically begged to be flattered. If you just spoke respectfully to them and pretended to be properly impressed with their jobs or hobbies and didn't jump on the furniture, you were well on your way to be labeled "a good child."

"Fai, we're almost there. Stop spacing out." Prach nudged him in the shoulder as the Stone House rose into view.

Fai rubbed his shoulder, grinning. He didn't need a lot of friends. Quality over quantity, and Prach was definitely quality. Prach appreciated his magic _and_ his collection of shiny odds and ends that he kept stashed in his room. Also, Prach was the only person outside of his family that Fai still did magic in front of: even though Prach couldn't do a lick of magic, he loved it with a fervor that made Fai eager to learn new spells and charms so he could show Prach. Prach did get mad if he tried anything risky, though, but Fai figured friends were supposed to keep you somewhat in line.

The Stone House was nothing more than a burnt-out shell of a former home located on a rise above the village. Its wooden roof had burned off long before Fai had been born, but unlike most houses in the village, its outer walls had been hewn from stone so they remained standing, albeit soot-streaked. The house had become a natural spot for people to congregate during the viewing since the more cold-natured could gather inside and have some protection from the wind - but still enjoy the spectacular display of Northern Lights. The boys neatly wove their way through the crowd milling outside the house. Several women stood over two large steaming kettles (one full of beer, the other hot chocolate), passing out cups to the crowd. "Here, warm up some, boys," rasped Blanka, the local barkeep, thrusting cups into their hands as they passed by her. "Your noses are red."

"Thank you," they chimed. Fai took an appreciative sip of the hot chocolate. It was delicious, of course. He loved sweets.

"Ah ah." Blanka clucked her tongue scoldingly and they froze in the entrance way. "You two know you're not supposed to bring weapons into that house." She jerked her thumb towards the pile of weapons outside the house's entrance. "Leave 'em there."

Prach scowled fiercely yet took off his quiver and bow, as did Fai. Once inside, they started looking for Fai's family, a challenging task since the house was dark and teeming with people who stood about in groups, laughing and chattering and pointing at the sky. Most people had brought lanterns; however, they had set them down near their feet, so the small pools of light didn't reach their faces. Fai couldn't identify anyone by sight until he drew close enough to cast his lantern's light on them.

But after a few minutes of wandering, Fai heard his father's booming laugh and simply steered himself and Prach towards the noise.

"Ah, Prach, Fai, about time!" Faiik said as Falco claimed "eldest son nookie privilege" and rubbed his knuckles into their hair roughly. The entire Flowright family was there - all his brothers and their wives and children, as well as Captain Saadak and Bacha. Everyone was in quite high spirits, except for F'edosi, who greeted with Fai with a glower and promptly turned his nose up.

Tragically, neither he nor Prach had spotted any bugs on the way there.

"So," said Faiik with a twinkle in his eye, "do you think you'll be the first to discover a pattern again this year, Prach?" Every year the villagers competed to see who would be the first to find any noticeable images in the Northern Lights: last year, Prach had spotted a bird-like formation that everyone had agreed looked startlingly like a phoenix with flaming wings of blue. "Because if you do, I'll give you a _real _tattoo of it. Now you might be out of luck if it's a chicken." Everyone laughed as Faina shook her finger at Faiik in mock anger, and Prach blushed from the attention. The two boys had liked the phoenix so much that Fai designed a stencil of it, which they proceeded to use to mark their territory, personal belongings, and even their skin (until Faina spotted the charcoal-drawn marks on their arms and promptly gave them both spankings – only sailors and gang-members had tattoos, apparently. Faina approved of neither as a career choice, Captain Saadak notwithstanding.)

Faiik's joke evolved into a rowdy discussion about which was the best pattern_ ever _spotted, and soon other groups of people got involved. Most Oznobishins tended to be opinionated, and the beer made them more boisterous than usual.

Fai smiled, enjoying the good-natured spirits and energy of the crowd and the streaming, dancing lights above. But his stomach was starting to ache, so he sank down to the floor and frowned at his empty cup. He hadn't had that many refills of hot chocolate, had he?

Prach sat down next to him and poked him in the arm. "I think _your_ family's the loudest one in here," he teased.

Fai grinned back weakly and hugged his knees tightly. His stomach was _really_ starting to hurt. "Well, everyone has a talent. My family's is just volume, I guess." He rubbed at his forehead, suddenly feeling hot and sweaty despite the cold temperature.

"Are you okay, man?" Prach stared at him with concern.

"I think I'm... going to be sick."

"Eh? What's wrong, baby?" Fai felt his mother's cool hands on his neck. "You feel a little hot. Ahh, I shouldn't have let you out when it's this cold; you've always been too thin, not enough insulation to keep you warm." There was a shuffling noise, and Fai realized she was digging through her purse. "I bet I have some herbs we can mix up for you and fix you right up." Fai made a face (safe since he didn't think she could see it); most of her quick-fix cures tasted _horrible _and somehow he just didn't think it was going to work this time anyway.

"Um, I'll just take him outside, Mrs. Flowright, if that's alright with you. He was fine until we came into the house, so maybe he just needs some fresh air," said Prach shyly.

Faina sighed. "Oh, fine. But if you don't feel any better, you come right back in here, Fai, and we're going home. Understand?"

Eager to escape nasty tasting medicine, Fai nodded agreeably and Faina planted a quick kiss on his forehead. Prach grabbed the lantern and pulled him to his feet. "Thanks for the save," Fai said as they scurried back through the crowd.

"Hey, I've _had _your mother's medicine before. But you're turning kinda pale, you know," Prach stated, holding the lantern up to Fai's face. "Are you sure you don't want to take something for it?"

Fai shook his head, still clutching his stomach. "No, I don't think I'm sick in the normal way. It happened really quickly... it feels like something's _wrong_." They were outside now, and Fai narrowed his eyes, peering out into the black horizon. "Like something's wrong out _there_ and I'm feeling it _here._" He suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling the rise of hot liquid to his mouth as his stomach spasmed.

"Um, not here, there are people here!_ Behind_ the house!" Prach grabbed their bows and quivers from the stack of weapons and propelled Fai around the side of the house. Fai barely managed to hold it in until they reached the back of the house.

"Ew, there's your supper."

"Oh, shut up," Fai growled, taking the handkerchief Prach had fished out of his coat. He wiped his face.

"Well, do you feel better? I usually feel better after I've puked my guts out," Prach reassured him.

Fai shook his head, still clutching his stomach. He didn't feel better; he just didn't have anything left to throw up. But he was puzzled: the bad feeling reminded him of the "buzz" he felt from sensing his mother and Magmeteva. Each possessed magic, so they put off a distinct energy that Fai noticed if he were in close proximity. However, unlike whatever he was sensing now, the buzz from them was pleasant and definitely didn't make him sick. It was also much less intense.

Fai explained the difference to Prach.

"So you think maybe an evil wizard's trying to curse you?" Prach wondered.

"No," Fai replied. "I think it could be backwash from a magical battle, though, a big one. I've read that people with magic can be affected by the spells of others even if they aren't directly involved."

"Lemme guess: the book didn't tell you how to shield yourself from it."

"Nope."

"Seems like there's a lot of important stuff that you haven't been able to find out." Prach looked despondent.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just... well, you're gonna have to figure out all this magic stuff sooner or later. Like this: you just can't live wondering if there's a battle every time you feel sick. And then there was that time you had to skip school 'cause you had the hiccups and you kept accidentally casting spells every time you hiccuped. It was funny as hell, but we still don't know why it happened. I _know_ you. You _hate _not knowing the answer... you're going to leave here, aren't you?"

Fai fixed his gaze on the sky to avoid looking at the other boy's face; he could hear the hurt in Prach's voice and didn't want to see his expression. "I hadn't really planned anything definite," Fai admitted. "I was thinking of an apprenticeship when I turn thirteen. I know that I'm not cut out for mining work, so I was considering talking Captain Saadak into letting me be a cabin boy on his ship – I'm sure I could, he treats me like I'm his nephew. I've picked up from him that there are magic-talented people who travel a lot so they can learn magic and hide from the army. If I sailed with him, whenever he docks at port towns I could wander around and sense if there are any magic people in the town. Then I could meet up with them and swap information and spells and stuff." Fai shrugged nonchalantly. "I know that might not seem like that much of a plan, but I just can't stand the thought of staying here and never learning much more than I already know. Magmeteva does tell me some stuff when she writes, but never anything really interesting or challenging. I think she's afraid that her letters might be opened and read by spies – she acts like she's writing everything to Mama and just discussing Hedge Witch stuff. So if I want a really good magical education, I have to travel and visit as many places as I can."

"You wouldn't go to the **capital**, would you?" Prach was aghast.

"No, not 'officially' as a magician. After I've gotten older, though, and learned enough magic to protect myself, I'll poke around secretly. Just so I can see what it feels like, you know. Every place in Celes has its own type of magic, and the capital's is _stronger_ than anywhere else. So I have to go just once. That's all."

"...you're _stupid_, do you know that? You're gonna get yourself killed, and they'll have to mail you home in boxes 'cause you'll get yourself blown to bits. I'll probably have to come with you just so when you do something really, awesomely dumb I'm not here for your mother to blame _me_." Prach jutted out his jaw out as if steeling himself for Fai's inevitable protest.

Instead, Fai squealed and grabbed the other boy around his neck. "That would be wicked cool! I bet we would have a ton of fun! Now we just have to talk our parents into it."

Prach wriggled out of Fai's grasp. "Cut it out, man! I don't want you to throw up on me," he scolded, but Fai saw the flushed smile on his face. "I'll let you do the talking since it's your crazy idea."

"No problem! I bet I could wear them out eventually," chirped Fai, gleeful despite the fact that he was starting to feel even sicker. He rather looked forward to the challenge, and -

--"Oh Gods! What the hell is that!" A shrill cry rose above the chatter of the crowd in front of the house as the sound of a thousand rushing, giant wings filled the night air. A brief stunned pause followed, then Fai heard theclanking of weapons being hastily snatched up and assembled. _No no no_, pounded over and over in Fai's mind as he realized exactly **what** was attached to those wings and why he'd gotten so sick. A horrifying clamor arose as the villagers clashed with their assailants: screams and shouts and inhuman grunts and arrows and metal against flesh and oh gods, _teeth_ against flesh. Fai's stomach tremored and he curled over, dry heaves wracking his body. The evil was so thick he thought he would suffocate. _Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, please please please please._

"Fai—Fai! Why are you shaking! What's going on!"

Fai forced himself to lift his swimming head, and he raised a trembling hand to point over Prach's shoulder. Prach turned slowly, his eyes dilating in shock as he saw what Fai had sensed. The walls of the Stone House were moving – no, _crawling. _The faint glow from the aurora borealis cast enough light to outline the silhouettes of huge things moving on the outside of the house, awful things with too many limbs and joints. Their movements were slow but deliberate and unmistakable: they were steadily advancing on the crowd corralled inside the house.

"Demons," Prach breathed, his hand tightening around his bow.

"They're not like the ones from before. There's human magic on them; they're strong. It's _unnatural_," Fai choked.

"They left their weapons outside the house, by the front door," Prach said slowly. "Outside... they don't have anything to defend themselves with." He picked Fai's bow off the ground and pressed it into Fai's shaking hands. "We** have** to go inside. Our families are in there."

Fai swallowed hard and watched as Prach nocked an arrow into his bow. His friend's eyes were still wide with fear, but his movements were full of determination and inevitability: Prach knew what had to be done. Fai scrabbled to his feet and readied his own bow, willing himself not to think but to just _do._

The boys raced around the house but froze upon reaching the entrance. The ground was littered with the bodies of villagers that had been mutilated to such an extent that Fai couldn't match names to them. Even wild animals wouldn't tear a human body like that, Fai thought, repulsed. He cast a few nervous glances around the area, but nothing outside moved.

"They took a few with them. Maybe that's why the bastards tore them up," Prach whispered grimly, prodding a demon's body with his bow.

"Their necks. That's their weak spot," Fai said quietly. Each of the fallen demons had an arrow or an ax buried firmly in the hollow of its neck. Papa and Fdot had taught him to recognize vulnerable spots because you usually didn't get a chance for a second shot with a dangerous predator. Fai tried not to think about them. It was impossible to think that they weren't okay.

Prach nodded and snatched up a few stray arrows from the ground, stuffing a few into his quiver and handing the rest to Fai. "We have to move fast. There were more people in the house; maybe they've managed to hold them off so far." Prach bit his lip hard. "Let's do it."

The two boys rushed the house, shooting as soon as they cleared the doorway. Fai went left and Prach went right so they wouldn't get in each other's line of fire. It was too dark for them to risk shooting low and possibly hitting people, so they aimed for the shapes clinging to the walls and whizzing through the air. Fai focused on the simple rhythm of loading his bow and releasing the arrows because he didn't want to acknowledge what his mind was screeching about the sticky softness under his boots. _I'm just outside practicing archery with Prach and Fdot; it's just a game; it's not real;_ _I'm not stepping on anybody right now-_

Fai heard the sound of a demon rushing towards him, and he dropped to the ground to dodge it but not quickly enough. Blinding pain flashed through his body, and the bow dropped from his hand. Fai clutched his right shoulder; it was sticky and it _burned. _After a few seconds, however, the burning ceased as Fai lost sensation in the arm, and it dangled uselessly by his side.Fai grabbed the bow with his left hand. He couldn't shoot with that hand but he knew he could at least use it as a club.

"Fai, did it get you!" Prach rushed up to his side, breathing hard.

"Yeah, I can't use my shooting arm."

"Shit! Look, I've been doing a quick search around the room. It seems most of the demons have already left, which is probably why we're not dead yet. I've been calling but no one's answering." There was a dry sob in Prach's voice, and Fai wondered if his friend had seen his family's bodies. Fai knew the Pados had come; he had seen them earlier.

"Fai..."

Fai jerked his head around. It was a muffled, faint voice but one he would recognize anywhere. "Mama!" he cried, running toward the sound of the call. He tripped on a pile of bodies, and the calculating part of his mind that still worked coldly informed him that obviously these were his brothers and father, and they had fallen protecting Mama. He strained to push his father's body off his mother but failed miserably. "Sorry, Papa. Mama and I will fix you up later, okay?" Fai whispered.

"Fai, stop. It's no use," his mother rasped. Her voice sounded funny and hollow, like air was escaping from a hole that shouldn't be there. Maybe he needed to bandage her, Fai thought dully, stretching out a hand to call up a light spell. "Lig--"

"Stop!" Faina hissed. "They'll come... silly boy. Listen, Fai... run. Nothing... you can do. Understand?"

"No!" Fai clutched her neck fiercely. It was really wet and smelled like metal; Fai knew she was hurt badly. But Magmeteva had always said Mama was one the best herb-using witches around; surely he could help her get better and then she could take care of Papa and Fdot and Falco and Falimir and Frol and the kids and even that stupid Fedos'i and then Prach's family and everybody else...

A horrible snarl sounded behind them. Fai felt fetid breath hot on his neck, and the hairs on his body stood straight up. He wanted to grab his bow but his muscles had frozen. _I'm going to die! _

"Attack _my_ baby! Go back to hell, monster!"

Fai watched in amazement as his mother shook him off and then pushed Faiik's body aside in a burst of energy. Faina seized an arrow from Fai's quiver and rammed it into the demon's neck as it lunged towards her, but its claws dug deep into her chest and she fell. She did not move again.

"Mama." Fai stared at her body, unable to comprehend what had happened.

"Fai! We gotta get out of here!" Prach's voice cracked with desperation as he pulled back his bowstring. Fai sensed a large demon closing in on them but he felt oddly detached and unable to command his body to move. "Fai!" Prach yelled again as he continued to fire. "The arrows aren't stopping it!" There was a hideous ripping noise, and Prach screamed in pain as he wrestled with the monster. "Fai, use your magic! Save yourself! Do it now!" There was a snapping sound, and the struggling stopped.

The creature let Prach's body fall from its mouth, and it slowly sauntered towards Fai, snapping its jaws eagerly as if it thought he would be an especially tasty treat. Fai locked eyes with the demon and saw that its eyes glittered with a human-like malice and intelligence.

A harsh realization washed over Fai: _They're all dead, and they're not coming back. They're all dead, _**forever.** Fai felt something dark stir inside him. "I hate you," he said to the approaching demon, which was almost within arm's reach. "So I think you all should die now, okay?" He smiled, a harsh, bitter smile.

Then Fai stretched out his hand, and the earth shook.

* * *

The scouts had returned.

They rode into camp in a subdued manner, and everyone in camp paused whatever he was doing to stare at them. They weren't jovial as was customary upon their return to camp – no whooping and insults for the "soft soldiers" who had stayed behind and no excitement over prospects of a nice meal and a tent to sleep in. Instead, their expressions were strained and somber as they passed through the camp. The other men began to whisper furtively as soon as the scouts went inside Ashura-ou's tent. Several of them cast glances at him, but Dedumil made a point of ignoring them and continued to nurse his small campfire. He hated traveling in the cold and the dark; his bones never stopped hurting when conditions were like this. Let the idiots gawk. They should have learned by now that he wouldn't make such an extraordinary claim if he weren't absolutely certain he was right. But he wasn't pleased or smug about being right; it would be damned sick to be proud about having seen a future of death and destruction for a helpless peasant village. However, odds being what they were, it was usually safer to predict brimstone and suffering than happiness and little bunnies frolicking about in the sunshine. Whenever he was "off" a little in visions, it was only because he had underestimated the degree of catastrophe; initial visions were easy, seeing the consequences of human response was not. Cursed wars.

Dedumil poked at the fire with a stick and frowned, wondering if the scouts had brought Ashura any useful news about that man with the hideous black-and-white haircut and tacky bat design on his clothing. That man had appeared in several of his visions, always a shadowy figure that flickered in and out of focus, barely perceptible. He was obviously a powerful wizard who had taken measures to avoid detection. Still, Dedumil had become wise to his ways and had finally deduced that he was the one who had taught Qveton the dark art of demon-shaping. The fool, of course, had thought it was a great idea to use winged demons to gain the upper hand in his insurgency against Ashura and hadn't hesitated to use them near settlements. Dedumil clucked his tongue. Voloshin was fortunate that it was a port city; Ashura's troops had commandeered a ship and reached it quickly enough to save about two-thirds of it. But some of the demons had escaped, albeit grievously wounded by Ashura's magic. These were the sort of demons that drew their power from the energy of humans, so Dedumil knew they would flee in search of the nearest hapless settlement.

That was Oznobishin, which was not nearly as fortunate as Voloshin in terms of geography. The River Ozerov was frozen solid that far north this time of year, so they were reduced to pushing their way through the rough countryside alongside the river. It had been almost three days since they left Voloshin, traveling as fast as they push their mounts; it would have only taken the demons half a day by wing to reach Oznobishin. A lot could have happened during that time...

Dedumil's curiosity got the better of him and he grudgingly abandoned his fire. He grabbed his staff and stumped his way to Ashura's tent, arriving at the exact same time as the Captain of the Guard, who shot him a suspicious look but deferentially allowed him to enter first.

Ashura was standing, hands crossed behind his back as he stared at one of his curtained tent walls. He did not turn to look at them. "The village is completely destroyed, and the scouts said they saw no survivors from their vantage point. They did not see the man with the... 'bad haircut' either."

Dedumil smirked at the wry note in the king's voice, and the captain gawked at him, shocked that Dedumil would dare _grin_ in the presence of the _king._ Ashura rarely rode with the troops, and thus they did not know him like Dedumil did. He only left Celes when an insurgent wizard or witch of a high enough rank necessitated his presence (he did not like to leave the throne unattended), and then he kept mostly to himself. Ashura did not joke with the men or scold them or normally even give them orders directly, preferring to leave most of the minor decisions to the discretion of the officers, although it was a grave mistake to assume that he did not know every intimate detail of their lives, both on and off the battlefield. Usually, Ashura was simply _there_, except for those thankfully rare moments when he felt compelled to release his tremendously potent magic.

"However," Ashura continued, "the scouts did see evidence of human activity. They saw piles of stones, as if someone had been burying the dead."

Dedumil grunted. "We should close in on the village and search for anyone living. That person may have information about the magical outburst we felt. If it is some new spell Qveton's side has cooked up, we don't have much time to act before they kill any witnesses."

Ashura nodded solemnly. "Then we will ride immediately."

Calling it a 'village' was a misuse of the word, Dedumil thought, overwhelmed by the immense destruction that stretched before them like a surreal tableau. The scouts' chilling account had not been sufficient to prepare them for this sight: the village had been flattened as if a giant hand had reached down from the sky and crushed it like an insect. Nothing was standing: not the temple, not the school, not the shops, not the homes. Bloodied, ravaged bodies lay in the snow, some still clutching weapons. Scattered among the human bodies were a few grotesque shapes. _Demons._ Dedumil spat at the body of one and silently cursed Qveton, a fool who would purposefully unleash such a force upon the world. Dedumil shot a quick glance at Ashura, wondering if the king were thinking about the one that slept inside his own body. But Ashura's face was inscrutable.

The same magic that he and Ashura had sensed earlier still lingered over the village like a shroud; there was no doubt that it was the same magic that had caused the destruction. Dedumil stopped his mount beside the charred remains of a tree that still smoked. "It's a Pul'kheriia. They don't grow in Southern Celes," he explained. "The pattern of the burning suggests that the tree was used as a channel for magic – but it burned because it was too much magic, too fast."

"My lord," said one of the scouts, "that's the direction we saw the graves in." He pointed to a small hill that rose above the village on the outskirts.

As they approached the hill, Dedumil realized that it was the epicenter of the blast that had flattened the village; specifically, the house that had once stood on top the hill was the epicenter. The moon hung full and bright in the sky, and it illuminated the ruins of the stone house, whose walls had been pushed out like a barrel filled to its bursting point. There were several mounds of rocks outside the house that glowed white under its light. Dedumil noticed markers and decorations on the mounds and realized they were crude cairns.

A small figure stood up and looked at them briefly as they drew close, but then it crouched down again and began to paw through the rubble of the house. It was searching for rocks small enough for it to carry for cairns, Dedumil realized. The child's skin and hair glowed pale under the moonlight, and it seemed like a ghost among the bodies of the dead.

"It's a demon," breathed the captain, unsheathing his sword in one swift action. "No human could survive a demon wound like that without treatment, not for this long," he said, pointing his sword towards the unmistakable claw marks on the child's right shoulder.

"No, you ass!" Dedumil snapped, cuffing the captain's head with his staff. "Put that back! A demon doesn't bury humans, idiot; it _eats_ them. And there's another reason that child's alive." He met Ashura's eyes meaningfully.

Ashura understood. "Men, stay fast. Dedumil and I will question this child." The captain gave him a mutinous look, but Ashura merely stared at him until he lowered his eyes submissively. Ashura and Dedumil unmounted and walked towards the child.

"This magic... it is his, is it not?" Ashura asked, quietly enough so that no one else could hear.

"Yes, my lord."

They were close enough to make out the features of the child. It was boy of about eleven with pale blond hair.

"Is he strong enough?"

The magical residue of the blast still clung to the boy. It was unmistakably his, and it was undeniably powerful. That a barely trained child of a mining village could call up such magic... "Yes, he is strong enough, my lord." What neither said but both knew is that whether he could be used or would have to be destroyed remained to be determined.

The boy halted as they drew close to him. He ignored Dedumil and stared only at Ashura, the barest hint of wonder registering in his numb eyes. Dedumil knew that the boy felt Ashura's power just as Ashura felt his. Magic called to magic.

"Child, do you know who I am?"

The boy nodded mutely, casting his eyes to the ground.

"What is your name?"

"Fai D. Flowright, sir," whispered the boy. Dedumil noted that the boy spoke well. He had been educated.

"Your mother... was the village witch, wasn't she?"

Surprise flickered on Fai's face, and he glanced at a cairn that was covered with a small bunch of flowers. "Yes, sir."

"Did she teach you magic?"

Fai hesitated as if his answer could betray the deceased. "... a little. Sir."

"So if you understand some of the principles of magic, you must know why the demons came here."

Guilt and resignation flooded the boy's large eyes.

"They were drawn to your magic – you put off a very big signal," Ashura continued evenly, as if he were discussing the weather.

Dedumil was only mildly surprised that Ashura revealed just part of the truth: the demons were probably encouraged by the boy's magic, but they would have come to the village regardless, drawn by the presence of humans and desperate because of their wounds. Ashura would not mention their role in the tragedy, however: Ashura didn't play to be fair. He played to win.

Ashura studied the cairns carefully. Each had a marker of some sort, probably the personal effects of the deceased: a knife, a bow, a doll. One had a sketch of a blue phoenix. "These are your family and friends," said Ashura. "And your neighbors. You are powerful, but you weren't able to save them. They protected you, but you couldn't return the favor because you can't control your magic. You did more harm than good."

The boy wrapped his arms around himself as if he wanted to disappear by making himself smaller. Dedumil wondered how far Ashura could push before he broke the child.

"For you to practice magic without having permission or being registered is a crime. You know that, don't you?"

Fai nodded again.

"What should your punishment be, for your role in the deaths of my subjects and the destruction of my village?" Ashura asked, his tone still mild.

"...I should be dead too," came the barely audible reply.

Ashura turned from the cairns and looked at the boy and waited until the boy lifted his head. The look Ashura now wore suggested kindness. "That would be just... but what is just is not always the best choice. What if there was a way for you to control your magic and use it to help people?"

Fai perked up, hopeful but frightened, as if the possibility were too good to be true.

_Show them death, then offer them hope, _Dedumil thought cynically. Ashura was skilled at this game.

"I could use someone like you to help me make this a better country."

"But--" Fai began, then halted abruptly, biting his bottom lip as he glanced at the waiting soldiers.

"Ah, they've told you bad things about me. Probably that I am ruthless and a murderer, right?" Ashura asked, letting just a trace of regret seep into his voice.

"Yes, sir." The boy looked at the grave with the flowers again.

"It's true. I am ruthless, and I have little mercy, even to those who ask for it. My actions have led to the deaths of many of my subjects -- who are under my protection. My soldiers put a tremendous strain on villages when they must travel to their battles: they have to take too much food and commandeer people's homes, and they are often brutal to innocents because they are stressed and frightened and angry. Sometimes the wizards and witches under my command use questionable means to win their struggles. It is unfortunate, but necessary so that Celes is not made vulnerable by those who wish to divide her. But... I do not wish for it to be so." Ashura's golden eyes glimmered with something like regret, and Dedumil noticed that the boy shifted slightly towards him, drawn by the display of emotion and Ashura's frankness. "If I had a very powerful wizard under my command, then conflicts could be ended quickly, instead of having them drag out and cause pain to my subjects. After time, my enemies would grow fearful and would not be so ready to plunge the country into turmoil like this"--Ashura motioned respectfully towards the graves--"and Celes could enjoy peace and prosperity again. This is my desire."

"What do you want from me, sir?"

"I want you to serve me as my wizard. I see that you do not delight in death or power, and I know that it would be difficult for you to use your powers in battle. But I have been looking for a long time for a such a person as you."

The boy slowly raised his head and met Ashura's eyes. "Would I have to kill people? Sir."

Ashura did not lie this time. "Yes. Knowing this, will you serve me?"

The boy hesitated, drawing back, and Dedumil knew he was going to refuse. Two futures flashed before his eyes: one in which Ashura murmured "a pity" after running the boy through, and another in which he simply pursed his lips as he wiped his sword clean before they rode off. Ashura would not force the boy to serve him; he needed the boy to believe in him and his ideals in order to fulfill his purposes. But he would not – could not – leave a boy with such power unattended.

"I---"

"The people who loved you wanted you to live. Your mother wanted you to live, and to do good, even if it's not through the same methods she taught you."

Fai clenched his fists, frustration and confusion plain in his expression. Despite himself, Dedumil could not help but smile wistfully. _No, it's not fair, is it, kid? _

"Yes, I will serve you. My king." The boy knelt to the ground, tears dripping from his face.

Where there had been only two futures, a thousand threads now diverged.

Ashura took the child by the hand and led him to his horse. Gently, Ashura placed Fai on the saddle.

The Captain of the Guard rode up, his eyes wide in poorly-contained shock at the sight of his refined, elegant king allowing a dirty-faced child of miners to _sit_ on his saddle, even steadying the boy with a kind hand. Ashura-ou neither touched nor allowed people to touch him.

Dedumil noticed that Fai gradually relaxed and leaned back into Ashura's touch, like a son would his father. But he knew, however, that as much as Ashura desired it, he would never allow himself the indulgence of playing 'daddy.' A father looked out for the needs of his children above all others. Ashura looked out for Celes, and Celes alone. Everyone else, including Ashura himself, were just means to that end. Dedumil knew that Ashura would not even hesitate to kill him – his most trusted adviser - if he deemed it necessary for Celes. But that was why he had chosen to serve Ashura, after all.

"My lord, what are your orders?" asked the captain.

"Assign half the men to bury the villagers. Send another scouting party do reconnaissance of the surrounding villages. We will ride ahead to Voloshin, where you will regroup with us when you complete the mission. Also, Captain, let me introduce my new Royal Wizard to you."

The captain made a noise of surprise, but he recovered quickly and gave a stiff half-bow in his saddle. "Captain Rzhova, at your service, Wizard."

"My name is Fai D. Flowright. Pleased to make your acquaintance," said Fai. He smiled beautifully, but his smile never reached his empty eyes.

Dedumil allowed himself one more twinge of sympathy for the boy. He would not be gentle with Fai either, but he would teach the brat what he needed to know to survive. That was better than mercy or softness. Yet... he couldn't help but be puzzled by one of the threads that flickered through his mind suddenly. It was a vision of himself teaching a grown Fai the forbidden art of world-jumping. He wondered why he would choose to do such a thing, but decided against allowing his mind to travel any further down that path. He had to allow _some_ things to remain a mystery, otherwise life would get boring and he would become an insufferable know-it-all. Dedumil climbed stiffly onto his horse, nodded to Ashura, and they began to ride south, away from Oznobishin and the only life the boy had known.

No one looked back.

-The End.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading this. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is the final chapter unless I decide to add a side story in sometime. But for now I'm going to just focus on playing around with _Lost in Translation. _If you've been reading and would like to make a comment, now would be a great time. :winks:

Dedumil is like Niccolo Machiavelli in some aspects. He doesn't care much for ruling class in principle, but he would rather aid a strong ruler than have his country divided and weak.

"Gargoyle Boy" is inspired from this official picture of Fai wearing a sweater and sitting on a roof. One fan compared Fai's crouching pose in the picture to a gargoyle and I liked that description. So I _stole_ it.

Mandate of Heaven: I'm using the term a little loosely. Check it out on Wikipedia if you want a precise explanation.

Does it seem overly harsh to compare the behavior of children to wolf packs? Perhaps, but not wholly inaccurate. By the way, Fai was still being educated at home, of course. He liked it better because he could study at his own pace. Yay homeschooling. Anyway, there were a few children who got along well with Fai (mostly girls) but their parents wouldn't let them associate with him after school because of the boulder-explodey incident. Can't say I blame them.

Fai's collection: wizards and witches are magpies. I think Fai would be suitably envious of Howl's collection (from the Studio Ghibli film "Howl's Moving Castle.") Can you imagine those two meeting:snickers:

Aurora Borealis:

northern-lights.no/english/contest/winner2003.shtml (Add a http www in front of that link... Tell me that doesn't look like a phoenix. The one Fai and Prach saw was blue, though.)

The Stone House was Magmeteva's childhood home. In some countries, people would avoid places that have been touched by tragedy, but the Oznobishins were a relentlessly pragmatic people.

Future events: I don't feel compelled to write the story through the arc in which Fai has sealed Ashura, but here's my theory: Ashura's demon starts taking control sooner than expected, but it did so in a rather subtle manner in order to evade deduction from Fai and Dedumil. It's possible that Ashura was also exposed to a power source that enables the demon to gain control and power very quickly – Sakura's feather, perhaps? Somehow Fei Wong is involved (he's meddled in the lives of all the other TRC characters, and CLAMP likes to have symmetry, so he has to have meddled with Fai in some manner.) Perhaps Ashura – in a sane moment - realizes that the demon has become too powerful and orders Fai to kill him because even with a sealing, the demon will eventually manage to escape and wreak havoc on Celes. But Fai can't bring himself to kill his king, so he does seal him and decides to world-skip, knowing that when the Ashura – demon awakens, it will seek revenge on him (it's also possible that Fai, with all his magical power, can't stay too close to the sealed Ashura or his magic will awaken him.) At the very least, the awakened demon will be too preoccupied with thoughts of revenge on Fai to take time to destroy Celes. Or so Fai hopes.

Thanks again for reading.


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